Spirit of Heroism
by Setrus
Summary: Michael Shepard died, but can his spirit? The story of Mass effect 2 as it should be. Sequel to 'The shell of heroism' M for lots of things. Now with the Arrival DLC.
1. Chapter 1

Pain.

His body _burned_, as if every inch of it had fallen asleep...only to awaken with a jolt, a jolt of _fire_ rushing through his veins and muscles...

He jerked, body stiffening as he squeezed his eyes shut...and let it wash over him, letting the ebbs and currents of the pain drive him forward...until he became still...taking a shallow breath, then another, and another...

Each breath coloured by...surprise.

He frowned. _Why am I surprised_?

Something had awoken him...a distant _sound_...the frown deepened, pale blue eyes opening.

Above him there were bright blue tiles covering the ceiling, a cold white fluorescent light above nearly blinding him...forcing his gaze sideways.

The room was full of machinery, most resting on wheels, several clearly switched on, various tubes and cords running from them like tentacles as they crossed the room, went up his small bed with wheeled legs of polished steel...and disappeared underneath his clothing.

He blinked, looking down at his body...mind blank. It _looked_ like his body...the skin showing on his hands and feet were paler then it was supposed to...but when he moved a toe he _saw_ it move. Yet it didn't..._feel_ like his body, it felt...oddly _distant_. He didn't recognise the pale green pants he wore, nor the long-sleeved shirt of the same colour...breezy and soft clothing...large enough to fit the various tubes and cords disappearing through every opening...

_I_..._got injured? Where am I_?

He looked away from the large body that had to be his own, once more looking over the spacious room as he swung his legs over the bed and sat up. It was unfamiliar, bereft of any warmth, only cold machinery and wheeled tables full of surgical tools...clearly an operating hall. The walls were white, white and here and there marked with a yellow hexagon open just at the bottom, two bent lines cupping it from below.

He stared at the nearest symbol, feeling a...tingling in the back of his head as he found it inexplicable draw closer...a tingling turning into a _shivering_ as it _filled_ his vision...a shivering turning into white _agony_ as it invaded his mind...

And Michael screamed.

_Cerberus_.

He fell, knees striking a cold floor, blood exploding from his flesh as his movement tore several cords out of his skin.

A man gasping, Michael's knife buried in his chest, assault rifle dropping from limp hands even as Michael moved to charge another foe...

_Cerberus_...

A dead admiral, surrounded by broken Rachni corpses, scientists and armoured guards...

_Cerberus_!

Michael _screamed_, hands moving up, clutching at his head as a _flood_ invaded his mind. Sights, smells, sounds...jumbled and confused, tumbling over one another as they assaulted him...

A Turian baring his fangs at him..Saren...

Cooked and burnt flesh, screaming people...

Wrex, smirking.

Geth advancing, their shots raking Michael's position among the cliffs...

A voice of doom...

A galaxy in flames...death around him...

Shared laughter, a party in Tali's honour...

Blood pouring from his sides, massive talons digging in as his life ebbed away...

He _screamed_!

It came too fast, too much, it wasn't memory _upon_ memory, it was _all_ memories, _together_...rushing at him at once, _tearing_ into him, ripping him _asunder_...

_Can't_..._not_ _all_...

It was all too fresh, each memory happening _yesterday_...though he _knew_ it couldn't have...

_Too_ _many_...

Saren bleeding...

No...Saren laughing...no...

Saren dying...shorn in half, a lone tear falling from his dimming eyes...

_Yes_..._sort_ _them_...

Ashley flirting, fighting...no...died...him still trying to move, trying even as the bomb ticked away...

It _hurt_...yet Michael let it roll over him, _accepting_ the pain even as it turned into relief as he felt the memories slide into place, each still felt like it had happened yesterday...but now he could put them in _order_...

A Quarian defiant even as she showed her evidence to them, them fighting together, deleting Tali's photo before he could see it, her rescuing him from a Krogan, comforting him as he broke apart...only to mend...a near touch...

A galaxy aflame...no...a vision...a beacon...Prothean..._Sovereign_...its hologram...no...arching overhead...no...marking Michael...no...breaking apart, shot asunder within the Citadel...

His head lolled...and Michael felt reality return, if but a hazy outline of it...

_I_..._these memories are old_..._older then yesterday_..._old_...

He gasped, wide shoulders shaking as his hands moved over his face...feeling his wide jaw, his small lips...thin nose...no longer crooked to the left? Michael blinked away the memory of the bar on Earth where that flying kick had struck his face...confused as his hands move upwards... finding _no_ scar over his right eye...ignoring the memory of that flashing knife slashing over his face.

_Why_...? Michael felt a fresh pressure in his mind, a pressure of _fear_... _Where did the old injuries go_...? _What_...?

Not fear, _terror_...

_What_ _happened_...?

A gasp..._his_ gasp...and Michael remembered.

_I_..._hunted Geth, searching for information on the Reapers, trying to force the Council to act then_..._attacked_...

His gasp turned into a throaty sound, all air driven from his lungs as he dropped onto all fours.

_Burning_...

_Ice_..._lungs turning into ice_...

_No air_...

_Falling_...

_Skin melting_...

_Armour_ _breaking_...

_Burning_!

_Skin melting_!

_No_ _air_!

He squeezed his eyes shut, swaying as he lay on all fours, fingers gripping tighty at the floor, clawing at it, feeling the cold tiles...something _real_.

_No_.._alive_...

He opened his eyes, staring at the oddly pale hands before him, fixing his gaze upon them. _They_ were real..._he_ was real..._alive_...

He frowned. _Or am I_...? Again he looked around himself, puzzled.

_Is this_..._my_ _hell_?

He had always held his religion close to his heart, a motivator, a knowledge that those he failed – killed – at Earth, at Elysium...would find their place in heaven. That _he_ would receive his just punishment...

Yet this didn't look like hell...didn't _feel_ like it...

He couldn't help it, he searched his mind, trying to remember...

It was all _too_ easy.

He, now ready, ignored the memory of him burning, melting even as his lungs turned to ice...pushed past it, feeling his life slip away...

His eyes widened.

Legs and arms gave up, his face thumping into the floor as icy horror drained all warmth out of him...

He saw..._oblivion_.

_No pearly gates, no hell, no heaven_... He found his body spinning within the room, all turning into a blur as he pressed himself against the floor... _No circle of life, no reincarnation, no __anything_...

It was but a moment...the briefest of glimpses...as if he had blinked...only to wake up in this strange place...

But he _knew_ it was longer then that, it was an _endless_ moment...of _nothing_, no sight, no smell, no touch, no sound..._nothing_!

_Nothing_!

He shivered...something within him..._shattering_...

_There is no God_...

_No heaven_...

_No hell_...

_Nothing_..._we_ _deserve_...

White lights danced before his vision as he struggled for air, horror paralysing him.

_No_ _God_...

A mindless chuckle escaped him, a puff of air condensation against the cold floor.

_No God_!

Another chuckle escaped him...only to turn into a growl as his legs and arms pushed up, forcing him upwards as his head snapped round, teeth bared in a snarl.

He was hearing...gunfire...explosions...screams...

And the growl turned vicious as his gaze moved to the other end of the room, finding a large double-door...the slight gap in the middle glowing ever downwards as something burnt its way down...

He came to his feet, cords and cables snapping as they were wrenched off him, staining his thin clothes with his blood as he reached out, right hand snapping out, grabbing onto a nearby metal rod, tearing the bag of blood hanging from it and gripping onto it with his left, feeling the blood seep from the bag...

And Michael embraced..._rage_.

Ahead the doors slid open, forced apart...and a two-legged mech walked in, making Michael pause for but a fraction of a moment as he saw the symbol on its black visor glowing red as it aimed its submachine gun at...at him.

His surprise was quickly swallowed by _anger_.

Michael lunged forth. Ducking low as he charged a a trio of shots whizzed over his body, one drawing a crimson line over Michael's back as his left arm swung forth...

_Hate_!

The bag of blood struck the mech square in the face, exploding with a wet thump and covering the flailing machine's face.

_Kill_!

Another burst of fire...striking nothing but walls as the aim was slapped sideways by the rod in Michael's hands...

_Tear_!

And then he was upon it, the thin metal rod dropping from his hands as he with an animalistic growl reached up, both hands closing around the head of the blinded mech...a snarl and a twist...and he snapped its scrawny neck.

There was a beep, the tear in the machine's neck glowing as the head came off...and Michael snarled once more as he dropped the pathetic cylinder as both hands shot out, catching the machine in the chest and forcing it backwards...

Before him the mech stumbled, dropped onto one knee...and exploded, its now ruined weapon sliding before Michael's feet, a skeletal arm still clutching it.

It wasn't enough.

Growling in anger Michael put a foot on the ruined weapon, ignoring the burning sensation under his foot he reached down, grasped the arm...and _tore_. The arm came off at the wrist with a crack of breaking metal...and suddenly Michael was holding a pipe of white steel, ends jagged and scorched.

It was but a low growl, and he barely recognised his own voice as he in a red haze advanced: "I want answers..."

And ahead he saw...space.

The window covered the entire wide wall ahead of him...and beyond it the blackness of space waited, the white stars ahead twinkling like tiny diamonds.

Michael lowered his weapon, the red haze narrowing, turning colder..._harder_.

_Out there is the galaxy, billions, and the __Reapers_... A wordless growl escaped Michael, remembering what had happened after having broken apart on their way to Ilos, remembering Tali's comfort...and his realisation.

_I_ _choose_ _to_ _resist_..._I can __always__ choose_...

Silence.

_I choose to fight_..._and I choose to keep my mind intact_. A slow and calm breath...and that red anger turned into blade of steel within him.

Then a self-derisive snort as he turned._ I __also__ choose to make sense of this crap_.

The room was spacious and largely empty, the floor a polished black, ahead and to his left and right white plastic chairs attached to low bannisters lined the walls._ A waiting room_? And even further to the right, next to the doorway Michael had come from...

He blinked.

Behind a black desk a blond woman's head lay face down on the desk as she sat in a creaking chair, a single red mark showed on the back of her head and a big puddle of crimson blood was spreading over the desk in front of her...her Cerberus uniform stained with the dripping blood from a solitary shot that must have come from the mech...

_She didn't even know she was being attacked_...

Michael narrowed his eyes, there was obviously no information to be gained from the corpse, and the papers strewn around her were too many to check through._ Or so the __explosions__ and __gunfire__ suggests_...

A shrug and Michael moved past the desk, weighing the pipe in his hand as he moved towards a set of stairs, stairs turning sharply right towards a closed door...that opened with a thump as he moved closer.

The hallway ahead was wide and fifty feet long...bereft of anything but the cold white walls and more Cerberus insignias..at the end the hall opened to the right as it ended with a large window that from Michael's position didn't show anything but another distant wall...

_Better move closer and get a better look then_...

Michael took two steps forward...

And heard the clattering of armoured boots against tiled floor, too close, too near...he could do nothing but freeze as he found three men rush in through the entrance ahead and spin round to face him.

They were covered in bone white armoured plates, the armour beneath pitch black, their faces concealed by black helmets sporting round blood-red lenses...and black gauntlets gripping onto their pistols as they lined up their target.

Michael arched an eyebrow, the pipe in his hand cold as he stared at the three men. _Who_..._the __hell_..._are you guys_?

He felt no fear, not even a tremor, at the sight of those black muzzles aimed at his unarmoured body...a body too far away to reach them in time to avoid getting shot. He had _seen_ the oblivion that awaited and _couldn't_ fear...

_I choose to fight, no matter the odds, no matter the risks_. He raised the pipe, glaring at the distant three, relaxed.

The three exchanged looks...before the one to Michael's left spoke, his voice dark and distorted as it left his helmet: "Target found."

Silence.

A low murmur in the left man's helmet.

Then he nodded, voice nearly synthetic in its quality: "Bring in intact."

As one the three moved to holster their pistols, hands moving to grasp onto black batons, freeing them...and instantly arcs of glowing white energy coursed through the larger tips. _Stun_ _batons_...

Michael's face broke into a vicious grin, voice a low growl as he raised his pipe.

"Bad choice."

8

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8

_Thanks to Abydos Jackson for still standing me._


	2. Chapter 2

They charged.

Armoured boots clacking against the floor, tips of their batons glowing as they raised them over their heads, crimson lenses glowing...

For the briefest of moments Michael considered his options. _Run back and draw them out_? _Defend through the doorway_? He grinned. _No_...

He charged.

Shoeless feet thumping into the floor, broken pipe of what had once been a mech's arm held to his side...

They were armoured, armed, _three_. He was _alone_, dressed in nothing but pants and shirt, but at six foot two he was taller then those before him, bigger...and _hungry_ for _blood_.

A lion charging the hounds.

The distance closed rapidly, yet memories still flicked before Michael's vision, memory upon memory of how he'd learn to fight. The brutality of the slums of Earth, the drilling training under the Alliance banner, the rigorous regime he'd put himself under after his failure at Elysium...

Yet at the end it was all instinct, partly drilled into him from his entire life...partly in his _blood_.

The distance shrunk between the two forces...and Michael was the one acting first.

Jumping to the left he placed his foot against the wall and kicked out...sending him hurtling towards the leftmost foe with a swinging right foot. The armoured foe tried to slide to a stop, to swing his baton down...but was too late to do either as Michael's heel struck him square in the chest.

With a shout the man was flung backwards, back hitting the window at the far end of the corridor with a loud crack of breaking glass before he with a thump bounced down onto the floor.

Spinning counter-clockwise with his momentum Michael brought his pipe up vertically, stopping the backhand swing at his chest from the centre-most foe's stun-baton an inch from his ribs. His left foot and hand moved forward, the former behind his foe's heel, the later gripping onto his visor. A sharp twist of Michael's body...and the armoured man was sent tumbling backwards with a muffled curse as he stumbled and fell.

The last one standing turned sharply from his charge, momentum lost with Michael's unexpected manoeuvre, turning to the right to face Michael his slashing swing lacked speed, making it easy for Michael to simply take a step back and let the weapon harmlessly pass his chest. The _second_ swing had force though, a powerful backhand blow aimed at Michael's head...that struck nothing but air as Michael ducked low, pipe a blur as he smashed it forth.

There was a grunt as the twisted edge of pipe punched in between the armoured plates of his foe's right thigh...and then a strangled cry as Michael twisted the weapon in the wound and pulled it out in a shower of arterial blood...

The man fell, nothing but a dying wheeze escaping him as Michael ignored him, gaze moving up the corridor as he saw the man that had bounced off the cracked glass come running back, leaping over his still prone ally as he came down with a swinging baton...

Michael shot up straight...one quick step forward and he had moved within the swing of his foe, raised forearm of his left arm parrying his enemy's swing by the wrist...as his bloodied pipe disappeared in between his foe's visor and his throat. The crude weapon punched through the soft part of his foe's armour...before it with a crunch of breaking bones drove itself through the man's skull.

The ruddy lenses of the man seemed to glare at Michael, the two barely an inch away from one another...before Michael snorted and pushed his enemy away, letting the corpse tumble to the floor.

The last man was up though, right arm raising his stun-baton, chest heaving, red lenses afire...and his left hand moving down towards his holstered pistol.

Michael charged.

His left hand closed around his foe's wrist, stopping the descending baton from striking him as his other hand closed around his foe's throat, drawing a startled gasp from him even as the momentum of Michael's charge drove them forward...

Right into the cracked window.

With a crash of shattering glass the window gave way, sending the armoured man through the window...and with his left hand shooting out to grab Michael by the collar...him as well.

The room they were suddenly falling into was spacious...a large empty room save a line of lockers on Michael's left and right...he couldn't make out more as he hurtled downwards, drawing his knees up against the chest of his now flailing foe.

Someone shouted out a warning.

Then the pair crashed into the floor, the man underneath Michael crying out in agony as his spine snapped even as Michael rolled forward and with the impact, his knees only aching slightly as he came up in a crouch, finding himself _inches_ from another person in similar armour to his foe. Only this one a woman, her red lenses glowing as she looked down at Michael in what had to be shock, the baton in her right hand hanging nearly limp in her hand.

And Michael could feel _others_ around him, staring in shock, shock that would wear out in _moments_.

His right hand snapped out, gripping onto the woman's baton and jerking it down and to the left...right out of her hand. She called out, reaching towards the weapon...and Michael straightened with a backhand swing, catching her in the visor with a flash of light and a crack, the baton sending her spinning backwards.

Spinning clockwise Michael roared, drawing on anger to mute his confusion as he went at the still stunned foes. His baton caught a man in his armoured shoulder with a white light of exploding energy...and the foe went down even as a dizzying amount of movement occurred around Michael as the others leapt into action.

Ducking low Michael charged head first at the closest foe, head pushing in between the legs of the armoured man, his arms coming around each leg as he straightened, lifting the foe over his back as a flurry of descending batons came down...and the man on Michael's back screamed in agony...and then went silent.

Straightening fully as he moved forward Michael dropped his enemy and spun clockwise, backhand swing of his baton catching a lunging foe in the wrist, disarming the shouting woman even as Michael moved on, downwards aiming baton parrying another lunge as his left hand shot out to grab the lunging man by the shoulder...

A twist and the man fell backwards with a shout, his baton flying upwards...and Michael spun clockwise, left hand catching the weapon mid-flight as he ducked low under another foe's swing and slammed his right baton over the leg of his foe, then his newly acquired one into his abdomen... a wheeze and the enemy doubled over by the twin energy-discharges.

Shooting up straight Michael's left swung a backhand blow, smashing aside a downwards swinging baton even as his right was thrust straight into his foe's throat with an explosion of white energy.

He kicked out...and the now limp foe flew backwards and into a cluster of others, sending them all tumbling away as the one escaping the projectile came at Michael with a desperate cry.

Michael's left baton parried a downward strike up high, his right swinging round and into the woman's abdomen. She cried out...and her baton was sent flying by Michael's sweeping left weapon that swiftly came round to strike her in the leg, bending her...as his right baton came in a backhand swing into her visor, cracking it even as she was sent flying.

Ahead they were getting up, a total of five foes left...who inched back as Michael with a growl turned to face them...

One reached for his gun...and Michael lunged forth.

The closest made a desperate swing...and his weapon was caught between Michael's two weapons as he brought his leg up, smashing his foot into the thigh of the foe and pressing down. The man cried out, hand grasping at Michael's shirt as he was sent downwards...and only managed to rip it as Michael leapt over him, swinging wildly at the next hesitating foe, twin blows catching a black visor and sending the woman flying.

The two flanking the one drawing his gun both lunged...and Michael's batons swung inwards, catching the lunging weapons...pressing them down...then _out_...as he pushed in between the two and slammed the tips of his own weapons into the gut of both foes with twin cries.

The last man finally freed his weapon, the gun shaking as he brought it to bear...and Michael's right foot kicked out, catching the enemy's hand and driving the weapon up into the air...as the foe jumped to get it Michael slammed both his batons into the neck of the foe, sending him tumbling back with a dying gurgle.

Behind him there was a clicking of running boots...and Michael dropped his right baton as he reached upwards, catching the pistol as it came down, spinning round...and putting a round straight through the visor of the man that still held a torn piece of Michael's shirt in his one hand...

The man fell with a thump...and revealed a distant door, opening as three more foes came forth, their red lenses glaring at Michael as they aimed their pistols at him.

Silence.

The three didn't move, weapons levelled at him.

_They're armoured, three on one, no cover_..._no way to miss_..._what_ _are_ _they_ _waiting_ _for_? Michael bared his teeth in a defiant snarl, finger closing on the trigger. _I did not bow before Sovereign, I will not bow to strangers_.

And ahead he heard a dark murmur of their radios: "Neutralization authorized."

The three tensed, gripping their weapons tighter as Michael prepared to once more greet oblivion...defiant and shooting.

Then the one in the middle and to the right were violently pulled back, shouts escaping their visors as they lazily drifted up into the air, dark blue biotic energy surrounding them. The last flinched, began to look back...only for him too to be surrounded by a field of dark blue energy...that suddenly pushed inwards...

A scream and the man fell to his knees, then thumped face down onto the floor...as the flying two flailed...and fell to the floor to the sound of two shots.

Michael didn't lower his gun though, curiously eyeing the suddenly changed situation...or rather...the pair moving towards him.

One a dark skinned man, clearly built solidly under the dark bodysuit he wore – Michael recognised it as lightly armoured though, and no doubt carrying a shield-generator – the pistol in his hands raised next to his near shaven head as he regarded Michael with the calm look of a trained soldier.

The other a woman with the face of an angel...and the body of a demon, badly hidden under her white bodysuit...sporting a cold look on her face as she with an arched eyebrow took in the incapacitated soldiers around her as she kept her weapon trained on Michael.

Both suits sported the Cerberus insignia on it however...and Michael's grip on the pistol tightened.

"Well..." The accent of the woman held a tone of upper class in it...and arrogance. "...I see that the reports about our subject's...aptitude weren't all...exaggerated."

"Identify yourself or die." Michael growled, not interested in admiration of his handiwork.

The woman's head tilted back, the eyebrow arching even higher as she regarded Michael with cold blue eyes, showing no fear under his glare: "You are in simple clothes, have no omni-tool and no biotic powers, you cannot win."

"So thought Sovereign." Michael retorted evenly, then nodded down on the floor. "And so thought these guys."

A little smirk appeared on the woman's lips at that, but no answer as she leant back on her heels, pistol staying aimed at him as the two held their ground.

Silence.

Then the man speaking, voice calm and curt: "Miranda, we're not here to fight him." Michael's eyes darted from the woman's, ignoring the way she smirked at her perceived victory as he looked at the man, the brown eyes looking back stoic as he spoke: "Commander Shepard, I'm Jacob Taylor, this is Miranda Lawson, Cerberus."

"I got that." Michael's gaze flicked down to the marking on Jacob's bodysuit. "A lot of trouble to kill me...and here I thought digging the body up so one could kill a foe again was just a saying..."

"You know you died?" Jacob asked, lowering his weapon with a surprised look on his face.

_Burning_..._cold_..._no_ _air_...

Michael blinked, then nodded, holding back a shuddering breath as he growled: "I remember yes, and now I'm here...didn't know one could bring people back from death...but I wouldn't put it past Cerberus and their mad science. Rachni, Thorian zombies, biotics...and now bringing back the dead, quite a resume."

A small snort escaped Miranda at that, the dark-haired woman shaking her head as she slowly lowered her gun, the way she held Michael's gaze making him lower his in turn, if only to disarm the situation. _Can always charge later_..._lowered tension benefits my position_... "I gather you disapprove of this massive project to bring you back to life? By the reports I've read I thought you would appreciate a second chance."

"Depends on who gives it." Michael replied. "Now, who are these types? Your henchmen?" He gestured at the bodies littering the floor...and tensed as a small laugh escaped Miranda.

"These?" She snorted, a small foot kicking out at one of the corpses. "No, someone let them in...and hacked every mech in the damn base...someone now dead." A cold smile appeared on her lips at the remark.

"He made a bad choice then." Michael dismissed the cold smile, irritated. "Now...who..._are_ they?"

The two Cerberus officers exchanged glances...then shook their heads as Jacob replied: "We don't really know."

Miranda shrugged, not sounding all that interested: "Possible the Shadow Broker's troops..."

"Shadow Broker..." Michael tensed, memories flicking by, memories of a Volus offering information from the Shadow Broker...helping. "...why would he attack me?"

"We don't know." Miranda shrugged again, tossing her hair back, frowning in irritation. "The Shadow Broker and Cerberus had quite the struggle over your remains...we're unsure what the Broker wanted...profit perhaps...you should be grateful, the Illusive man has spared no expense in bringing you back."

_Illusive man_... Michael blinked, remembering the stacks of reports he had read of Cerberus when he had fought them...there was nothing good in any of them. "I'm sooo grateful...except there's always a reason...isn't there?"

Miranda stayed calm...but Michael noticed how Jacob awkwardly reached up to rub the back of his neck. The woman just tossed her hair back though, coldly regarding Michael: "Why don't you _ask_ him then? This station is going down in flames, not that it matters, we would bring you to him anyway."

"Bring me huh?" Michael retorted, grip on the pistol tightening. "And what if I don't want to?"

"Then you can stay here." Miranda replied with a defiant toss of her head, gaze moving up and down him with cold amusement. "A sad waste of two years of work and so many billions..."

Michael felt..._cold_.

"T-two years...?" He blinked, taking a step back, baton falling from his left hand even as his right tightened on his gun. _That's not_..._memories didn't all happen yesterday_..._but two __years_...! "Th-that can't be..."

"You weren't in the best of shape when they brought you here, Commander..." Jacob replied, shrugging even as he eyed Michael carefully. "...it took a while."

"I..." Michael lowered his head for the first time, feeling...tired. _All_..._gone_..._my friends_..._they think I'm dead_..._they have thought so for ages_..._and the __Council_..._Go-no_..._I_..._my fight with the Reapers, they will no longer even be half willing to_..._I_..._dammit_..._Garrus_..._Tali_..."...see."

"Shepard, we're in a hurry." Miranda growled. "More of these troops will arrive soon and even if they fail to find us the base is falling apart, we need to leave."

Only silence answered her.

An exasperated sigh. "Shepard, decide, _now_."

_Decide_..._choose_..._I_..._have_ _to_ _choose_...

Michael tensed, arms tensing...as he struggled.

_Reapers still exist, but_..._no God_..._no reason_..._no_..._friends_..._all_..._no_..._they __live_..._and I will keep them alive_..._I do __not__ surrender_...

Silence.

_And to fight I must leave_.

"I will come with you..." Michael looked up, narrowing his eyes at the angelic woman that might as well have been made of cold marble...an equally cold smile on her lips. "...for now."

The smile died, turning into an irritated frown.

Jacob however spoke calmly: "Fair enough."

Michael nodded to them in turn.

"Then lead the way."

8

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8

_Thanks to Abydos Jackson for always being ready._


	3. Chapter 3

The room was empty.

Michael looked left and right, but with such a small room what shadows existed weren't deep, nor distant enough to conceal anything.

He frowned, the floor was cold under his still bare feet, the air equally cold against his barely clothed chest.

Their journey to the Illusive man's base had been painful at first, Miranda's questions to check Michael's memory drawing forth all _too_ vivid memories that _still_ felt as fresh as if they'd happened _yesterday_. The later part, after Michael had snapped at her to_ shut up_, had nearly been dull however, the three travelling in silence as Michael tried to ignore the throbbing of his skull, Miranda's glaring and that barely restrained sense of panic threatening to overcome him...

_Two years_...

It didn't seem real, it _couldn't_ be real...in his mind it made no _sense_...but he had checked the extranet...and it was correct. _Or is Cerberus hacking it_?_ Trying to_..._no_..._that wouldn't work in the long run_..._t-two years have passed_..._no_ _God_..._no_ m_ission for the Council, no_..._all_..._g-gone_..._my_ _work_...

He hadn't been surprised by what he had read on the extranet, nor angry, he had known the Council would back away from the whole Reaper threat that Michael had endorsed the moment he eased off the pressure... But to see it _all_ gone...not a single _mention_ of it...as if all he had done and all he had bled for didn't even _exist_ any more...it was enough to make him sway where he stood, feeling that panic swell.

_I_..._did__ all that_..._didn't I_?

He shook his head, dispelling the doubt...because if he _started_ doubting...he wasn't sure if he would be able to _stop_.

Ahead the room stood empty before him, nothing to see...yet he stepped forth, up on the marked ring on the floor. _Maybe it's some sort of ele-_..._oh_.

He blinked, feeling a strange tingling behind his eyes as an orange cage of light rose around him, the room fading...being replaced by blackness...and then a light...a hazy red and blue light growing ever brighter...

Then he was jolted to a stop, finding himself standing what almost seemed to be _space_.

_No air_!

_Burning_!

_Lungs_ _freezing_!

Michael bit down hard, hands closing into fists as he swayed, the memory seemingly slamming into the inside of his skull, as if trying to burst forth like some vicious alien.

_No, this is just like the visions of the beacon, it's not_..._it's real_..._yet __not_...

He squeezed his eyes shut, took a deep breath...and forced himself to relax. _Heh, not like fear matters anyway, there's nothing to fear_...

A small snort...and he smiled, relaxed, eyes opening.

The dark space around him was nothing but blackness and flickering stars...but ahead he saw a strange glowing sun, shapes of blue and red light swirling around it, as if struggling for supremacy...

_Irrelevant_.

Michael's gaze moved down, finding a solitary figure, a _seated_ figure...a man in a suit, calmly resting against the backrest of his chair., left hand holding a glass of yellow alcohol with two cubes of ice in it, the right a half-smoked cigarette.

It was an old man, or so the thick and wavy grey hair with streaks of white implied. He was like Michael, cleanly shaved, though with a less pronounced jaw. His face was what many women would no doubt call handsome...if it wasn't for the many lines around his eyes and forehead, the lines of a man that had spent decades troubled by worries and thoughts. And his _eyes_...glowing a pale blue...obviously synthetic as they stayed fixed upon Michael with a calculating look.

Michael straightened, realising he was being measured...and smirked._ I've stared into the eyes of a mad Saren, into the relentless hatred of Sovereign, at the destruction of a galaxy and into oblivion itself, yours are nothing but a footnote_.

Silence.

And Michael rolled his eyes, knowing what game they were playing...and not really caring for it. "The Illusive man I presume?"

"Correct." The man replied, face not revealing anything what he thought of his 'victory'. "And you are Michael Shepard...I'm glad you survived the attack." His tone was calm, calculating...and lacking any warmth.

"Of course, wouldn't want damage to your investment, that would be expensive" Michael snorted, arms crossing over his chest.

"Correct again." The Illusive man replied, almost sounding humoured, _almost_. He butted out some of the ash from his cigarette. "And believe me when I say you were an _expensive_ investment..."

"I'm _honoured_." Michael dryly retorted, leaning back on his heels. "So tell me, why _did_ you perform a Jesus on me?" He smirked at the implication._ Shepard, brought back to life under the unfeeling pincers of science to once more bring death and destruction to all life_..._guess we had it coming_...

"We brought you back because we need you." The Illusive man retorted, unaffected by Michael's blasphemy as he took a sip from his drink.

"And if I don't _want_ to help the _terrorist_ organization Cerberus?" Michael instantly replied.

The Illusive man calmly put the glass back down. "Then we part ways, I will not force you to anything, I need you as a _volunteer_...or not at all." Michael blinked, confused. "No doubt you have many questions, let me fill you in."

Michael frowned, looked away. _I could just walk and_..._no_..._no harm in listening_..._what else is there to do_? _All else is_..._gone_... He shuddered. "Very well...but don't try lying...I'm not the forgiving type."

"Lying wouldn't serve my purpose with you." The man replied, calm as ever. _Bet he always wins at poker_... "Anyway, after your death and the destruction of the Normandy by an unknown vessel – we have guesses as to what kind it is, but nothing concrete – the Council pulled back its already lukewarm support of you and your campaign of the Reapers, calling it an isolated event."

Michael snorted. "No surprise there."

"No, not at all." The man reached up, putting the cigarette to his lips, an exhale of smoke...and he butted the dying stick out in the ashtray in his armrest. "Not long after that human colonies out in the Terminus system started coming under attack, no distress calls, no signs of battle, just every colonist suddenly vanishing. Cerberus also detected an increased activity among the Shadow Broker's agents to get a hold of your body...a body we had begun to seek as we realised what was occurring."

"And what _has_ been occurring?" Michael retorted, eyeing the man for falsehood and finding nothing.

"That the Reapers are on the march."

_Reapers_...Michael shuddered, _still_ feeling Sovereign's mind like a needle within his skull. "_Y__ou are __marked__, Shepard_..."

Sovereign's voice made Michael flinch, looking around himself in bewilderment...but finding nothing even as the Illusive man continued: "Cerberus _knows_ the Reapers are still a threat. And while the evidence is circumstantial at best the Shadow Broker's attempts to seize your body after the ambush from an unknown vessel, after which _human_ colonies have hit in an unprecedented scale, leading to the disappearance of hundreds of _thousands_ of colonists...it supports a theory of a shift of the Reapers attention to humanity."

"The Reapers are out to destroy _all_ life in the galaxy." Michael retorted, still hesitant as he threw glances left and right... _I_..._Sovereign's_ _dead_..._isn't_ _it_?

"True, yet it was a _human_ who killed one of them, a human so eagerly sought even _after_ he was killed." The Illusive man retorted. "The Alliance is ignoring the disappearance of the colonists, calling it isolated attacks of pirates, they're stretched too thin to do anything else, and the Council does not wish to involve themselves in _anything_ involving the Terminus systems. The Reaper threat is being _ignored_."

"Except by terrorists..." Michael replied, hesitant as he eyed the Illusive man. "...why?"

"Cerberus has a bad reputation, I admit that." The man retorted, taking another sip of his drink, his now cigarette-free hand moving to stir his drink with a small silver spoon as he put it back on the armrest. "But our goals are simple and frank, the preservation and advancement of humanity. You may judge and condemn our methods, but we _are_ on the same side, you want to defend us all against the Reapers, Cerberus humanity, we are natural allies."

"Didn't seem that way when your people were _shooting_ at me."

"_You_." The Illusive man pointed briefly at Michael with the spoon. "Shot first." Then the spoon returned to the glass. "Besides, while the research you stopped, with Rachni and Thorian slaves, were what most would call morally apprehensive they _would_ have assisted humanity in combating the Reapers... As I said, you may condemn our methods, but we _are_ allies in our battle with a common foe."

_And when that foe disappears_? Michael narrowed his eyes at the Illusive man...who calmly looked right back at him. "As you said, your evidence of the Reapers being involved in this is circumstantial at best...why should I help you when I can return to the Council and the Alliance?"

"Both organizations that have declared you dead." The Illusive man replied, the words sounding practised. _He has thought his arguments through_... "The Alliance unwilling to involve themselves in humanity's disappearing colonies and whose politicians have become intent on joining the Council and rebuilding rather then beginning new wars. And the _Council_, unwilling allies to you even _before_ you died...who would not take you back with open arms now...if at all. You refer to those allies?"

"I..."

"And how much aid did they _really_ supply you with?" The Illusive man took another sip from his drink, watching Michael intently as he hesitated. "The Alliance gave you a ship, or rather _Anderson_ did. They supplied you with some marines at one moment, and only when Geth were preparing to attack them...other than that nothing but some political backing...and that was hesitant if anything." Michael grimaced, the words far too true. "Or the Council? Who made you a Spectre after much hesitation...and then mostly offered you a pat on the back and sent you off? Shepard, most of what happened in the campaign against Saren was _your_ doing, and your doing _alone_."

_No_..._not_ _alone_. Michael closed his eyes, drawing a shuddering breath. _A-Ashley_..._Kaidan_..._Wrex_..._Liara_..._Garrus_..._Tali_..._I was never alone_..._they__ were the heroes_.

"Cerberus however is offering you _real_ support." The Illusive man's voice was almost soft...yet still held an edge. "I brought you back, I will supply you with a new ship, two of my finest officers, the Cerberus funding and information network, the _finest_ equipment there is..and will direct you to find the most _skilled_ of help to assist you in fighting the Reapers...I will give you _all_ that you need to fight the Reapers...for _that_ coincides Cerberus' goal."

Michael, still feeling overwhelmed...swayed. _That's_..._generous_..._more then the Council __ever__ offered_..._I_... "You...expect to bribe me?"

"Not bribe, support." The Illusive man corrected, taking another sip from his drink. "As I said, if you wish we can part ways. But I _would_ ask of you to at least to go and take a look at it yourself...to see the most recent colony to get hit...see if you can find anything...and understand the gravity of the situation. No strings attached, check it out...and if you don't find anything you feel worthy of attention...I will see your revival as a lost investment and let you go."

_I_..._no_ _Council_..._no_ _Alliance_..._all_ _my_ _work_..._I'm not even_..._a Commander any more_...

Panic welled up at the thought. _I have nothing left_..._my_ _mission_..._all I worked for_..._gone_..._I_..._can't stop fighting the Reapers, if I do_..._I can't_...

"I...I..." Michael clenched his teeth, shaking his head as he spoke through gritted teeth. "...I owe you that much for bringing me back, I will check it out."

There was a shadow of a smile on the Illusive man's lips, nothing more. "Good, on your way you can get acquainted with the ship we've built for you, see that my offer is not just hollow words."

Michael shrugged, tired. "As long as I get there I don't care how you get me there."

"Oh I think you _will_." The Illusive man replied. "I'll have the pilot escort you there...I'm sure you'll appreciate my choice, he's supposed to be the best. Good luck, Shepard."

_What does that mean_...? Michael frowned...even as his eyes once more tingled, the Illusive man disappearing as Michael's vision blurred...only to come into focus once more, his eyes staring at the grey wall of the room he'd walked into.

"Soo...?"

The voice, _familiar_.

Michael spun round...and gasped at the sight of the bearded man standing before him, slightly bent forward in his Cerberus uniform.

"...glad to be back?"

_Face contorting in horror as he was thrown into the escape pod, reaching out even as the door slammed shut_..._screaming for Michael even as the ship burnt around him_... Michael's voice was a raspy gasp: "Joker..."

"Yeah...erm..." The pilot reached up, rubbing the back of his neck as he offered Michael an awkward look. "...sorry about the whole getting you...erm...killed."

Michael didn't mind, didn't _care_...all he saw was the first familiar face since his nightmare had begun...and felt a rush of affection brush aside the hundreds of memories of the pilot even as he moved forth.

"Micha-_el_!"Joker's word turned into an exclamation as he was lifted into the air by Michael's arms, drawing a gasp from him even as Michael pulled the pilot close..breathing him in even as he closed his eyes in relief.

_I_..._thank_ _Go_-..._just_ _thanks_..._he's_ _alive_..._I_..._Joker_ _exists_...

He squeezed the pilot closer, just to be sure, and got a gasped cry in return: "Mi-chael...bri-brittle bones...r-remember?"

"Yes." Michael smiled, eyes closed as he refused let go, only easing the pressure slightly. "My own brittled boned little pilot..."

"Yeah...I don't swing that way." Joker muttered.

Relief flooded him...and Michael laughed.

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_Thanks to Abydos Jackson for enduring my stupidity._


	4. Chapter 4

He was hesitating.

Miranda sighed, shoulders sloping as she rolled her eyes, frustrated and confused...but _mostly_ frustrated.

Ahead the door to the new Normandy stood open, decontamination finished...and Michael was doing _nothing_, standing right at the edge of entering...

Another sigh escaped Miranda. She was unsure what to make of Michael...for one she felt proud when she saw him, seeing her accomplishment, she had _created_ life...he walked and talked thanks to _her_ work...sure it was an accomplishment much dimmed by her genetic gifts...but it was still there. On the other hand it was a bit frustrating, the Illusive man was investing so much in a man whose genetic code was..._sub-par_ if anything...yet the man had without a doubt done _far_ more for humanity than Miranda herself had...she grudgingly admitted she felt some irritation with that.

He was also vexingly difficult to make sense of.

Miranda knew herself, she _knew_ she was a good judge of character, that she could see at least the basic workings of a person with a few glances. Yet Michael was proving more difficult then the Illusive man to figure out.

Back at the Lazarus base he had seemed like such an animal...a primal thing like a hurricane or a rabid lion...and Miranda had for a moment feared his sanity had been destroyed. Still, even when that fear was dispelled she had been disappointed in the brutally of the man, they had been healing a man known for his ability to command...not a damn berserker!

Yet now...all energy seemed to have gone out of the man, he looked indecisive, morose and...introvert. Miranda could understand that everything felt new and confusing with him being brought back to life and such...but this was a man supposed to take _charge_ and _confront_ the unknown and do what was _needed_ to be done...

So far Miranda wasn't impressed.

A shrug...and Michael finally moved, bare feet gently padding over the floor, reminding Miranda all too well about the way he had thrown aside the Cerberus uniform she'd offered him. _Pointless defiance_..._clothes are clothes_..._not to mention entering your ship dressed in nothing but your torn hospital clothes is not a good way to make a first impression on the crew_! _This is no luxury liner, he should show a good example like a proper officer_...

Of course he might not choose to help them after Freedom's Progress...but if he didn't he'd only prove he was a fool...and Miranda would do without him.

Miranda and Jacob followed, a brief glance confirming Miranda what she already had perceived of Jacob. During all their time working on Michael Jacob had spoken about Shepard with nothing but respect, and though there was a wariness in the way he looked at Shepard...he held an open mind, ready to accept the hero of the Alliance.

Miranda nearly sighed once more, a jab of sadness in her heart. _Always so ready to trust_...

To their left was the cockpit, the pilot...what's-his-name...already seated and looking eager to get going as he attentively looked at Michael for instructions...a Michael who was looking down at the floor, eyes soft as his gaze moved up over a wall, hand reaching up to touch the smoothness.

Shaking her head at the odd behaviour Miranda gestured at the pilot and his controls, she had already given instructions that they were to leave for Freedom's Progress the moment Michael was on board after all. He didn't react though, gaze fixed on Shepard...and Miranda frowned in anger as she gestured again.

_This_ time the pilot moved, nearly reluctant as he moved to enact her order._ I'll make a note of that_..._obviously discipline will be an issue with that one_.

Ignoring the issue for the moment Miranda turned back to the more immediate concern of Shepard as the man slowly moved down the hallway towards the Combat Information Centre, making her and Jacob follow behind, both eyeing him curiously.

His steps were slow...pensive...and he seemed completely oblivious to the crew-members scattered around doing their duties...many turning to look at him, or at least dare glances as Miranda shot them cold looks enough to get them back to work.

He moved down the small stairs to the CIC, stopped, head turning left and right...and then up at the glowing galaxy map up ahead, surrounded by the long computer board for the command-crew...designed to be just like in the previous Normandy. _A Turian standard_..._but_ _as_ _long_ _as_ _it_ _works_.

Ahead Michael took a shuddering breath, stepping up close to the computer board, hands coming to rest upon it as he looked up at the map...

_Is_ _that_..._tears_ _in_ _his_ _eyes_?

Miranda shook her head, there _wasn't_...but it was _close_...

_Weak_...

That's when EDI appeared before him, the round sphere atop a narrowing pillar looking at him with its holographic voice-visualizer...its voice softer then the usual synthetic ones: "Commander Shepard, welcome to the Normandy, I am EDI, the on-board AI, if you need assistance you only need to ask."

Miranda frowned, part in annoyance, part in worry. She acknowledged that having a shackled AI on board was a smart move to amplify the efficiency of the ship...even if its presence was enough to make anyone nervous. Miranda's chief concern however was how _Michael_ would react, he had battled rogue AI for ages...she eyed him carefully.

The man only slowly took his eyes off the galaxy map...soft gaze moving to the hologram...and smiled, actually looking a little _relieved _as he whispered: "That I will, thank you."

_What_ _the_...?

Further ahead Miranda found a distraction in Kelly Chambers, the red-headed yeoman was watching Michael with avid interest, no doubt making mental notes in her head of questions to ask him. Miranda frowned at that, personally she found a shrink on the ship useless. Miranda was good enough at judging people's abilities...and as long as people did their work there really wasn't a need for them to be distracted by some over-sympathising woman moving around to ask them about things that were their own damn business, and no one else's.

Michael's voice brought Miranda out of her glaring however, the man slowly easing away from the computer board with a distant smile on his lips: "_Not_ the same..."

_Referring to the Normandy no doubt_..._odd that a lack of similarities would yield a smile_..._we_ _built_ _it_ _to_ _be_ _similar_ _to_ _help_... "Yes, Shepard, this Normandy is larger then the previous ship, with three decks below, you can look through them at will. Below this we have life-support, medical and living quarters, below that engineering, then the hangar...we also have a deck above with the captain's quarter, your equipment is waiting for you there."

Michael didn't seem to hear, making Miranda bristle as she watched him idly move his hands over the computers as he moved to the left, heedless of the way he disturbed the crew as they got out of his way, eyes distant as he looked around himself.

_This is supposed to be our Commander_..._great_. Miranda shook her head, irritated even as she watched Jacob move up next to the slow-moving Michael, despite the difference in height and skin-tone there was a..._similarity_ in the two. _Probably the way they move_... "Commander, we have the lab to our left here, and the _armoury_ is over there to your right, I'll be glad to show you through it later to find weapons of your preference."'

Michael followed Jacob's pointing finger with his distant gaze...and offered a small nod, some of the pensiveness in his eyes fading. _Soldiers_... Miranda sighed, drawing out her steps to catch up with the two as they headed for the elevator ahead...shooting Yeoman Chambers a warning look while she passed, knowing the woman would try to introduce herself._ Later, now we have important issues to deal with_.

Stepping into the elevator Miranda was the one pressing the button to the captain's cabin...and the door instantly slid close as it moved to bring the three up to what the crew already, _inaccurately_, had begun to call the 'loft'.

It felt a little...awkward.

Miranda glanced to her left. Michael was merely staring at the door with a distant look on his face...a monster of a man she had spent two _years_ reviving...and who now walked and talked effortlessly. And further of Jacob stood, obviously trying _not_ to glance at her...they had worked together for two years with their project on Michael...and _never_ talked about...the time before that. Back then they had been too busy really, but _now_...

It was uncomfortable.

A thump...and the door opened.

And yet they stood still.

Rolling her eyes Miranda looked to Michael: "Commander?"

To her surprise he was smirking, if ever so softly: "It's faster now."

_What_ _is_?

There was no answer in Michael's face, the man slowly stepping into the room. Technically it wasn't bigger then Miranda's own room, but there was a spaciousness to it that her office lacked. And hers didn't sport such excessive things like the aquarium built into the left wall or the glass wall for the display of dozens of various model ships...things she couldn't understand why they had added, Shepard was unlikely to join them due to a luxurious room..._that_ Miranda knew of him at least.

"This is your cabin Shepard, bed, sofa, bathroom, and of course the essential consoles, all you need to work on your own if you so desire it." Miranda said, taking a step forth to come up next to Michael as she gestured for the room.

He didn't seem to hear her, the man once more distant as he stared at his bed.

Or rather, the objects neatly arranged upon it.

Miranda was about to speak again...only to find herself stopping as she saw Jacob advance, one hand landing on Michael's shoulder as the soldier guided Michael down the two steps leading to the main floor...and closer to the bed. Jacob's voice was calm and steady as always, yet held a hint of softness in it as he released Michael's shoulder: "Commander, do you want a minute? If you need time to change I mean..."

Again, no response from Michael, the man moving down on one knee before the bed, right hand moving forth to gently brush over the pitch-black breastplate of his armour, something akin to reverence in his movement as his fingers brushed the 'N7' mark on the collar.

_This is ridiculous, armour is armour, it's an __item_..._one shouldn't hold such things close to heart, nothing that you can loose_...

Sighing, Miranda put her hands behind her back, keeping straight as a _proper_ officer should as she looked down at the kneeling Sheppard, still dressed in torn rags as he touched the dark armour. "We of course knew your size, so they have been made to fit you, replacements and different pieces are in the armoury, I'm sure you and Jacob can find what works for you. Meanwhile I suggest you suit up, I've taken the liberty to set a course for Freedom's Progress and at FTL it's not far away, so do not take too long. After all, with it so close we hope to be the first ones on the site and as such-"

She stopped, she didn't listen to many people...but Jacob's raised hand was one thing she _knew_ as a _suggestion_...and usually a good one.

The man had taken a step further away from Michael...and was turning to walk away even as a strange sound escaped him, the man reaching out to touch the helmet resting on the bed...hands shaking.

_What is going on_...? Miranda frowned, only to flinch as Jacob placed a heavy hand on her shoulder, the man's eyes holding a hint of sadness as he nodded towards the elevator.

Reluctantly Miranda turned, knowing she really ought to stay and make sense of it all, if nothing else so she could report it to the Illusive man...but Jacob's gesture broke no argument...and she was frankly getting tired of their supposed 'Commander'.

As she stepped into the elevator she heard a small sob...and shook her head in irritation, uncaring of Jacob's glare.

_Weak_...

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_Thanks to Abydos Jackson, always._


	5. Chapter 5

The shuttle came to a shuddering halt.

With simmering thrusters the shuttle swayed above the small landing platform, the heat from them creating waves of white fog that rippled over the cold stone beneath...

Miranda and Jacob leapt out the moment the door opened, pistols drawn and ready, the pair calmly looking left and right to make sense of the area.

They had landed on the outskirts of the main colony, the platform at the edge of a sheer cliff, leaving no directions but one to look at. A bit of a precaution ordered by Michael not to be flanked...not that Miranda thought it all necessary, she had almost lost count of how many colonies like this one she had investigated...

With a frustration tinged with resignation she stepped closer to the walled railing of the landing platform, pistol lowered as she gazed out over the surroundings. _I hate it_..._the quiet_...

It was early morning, the sun had yet not seen fit to rise, and as such the world was tinged in a dark grey that made the standard pre-fabricated buildings that existed on nearly every human colony world out there look almost as if they were aglow with their white paint. There was a small plaza ahead, many of the buildings ahead surrounding it...and forming a street leading away from the team.

Nothing surprising, sighing Miranda lowered her pistol, noting, mostly for Michael's benefit since she's already seen the same sight so many times before. "No structural damage, no signs of combat, nothing but empty buildings, not even a corpse."

Looking back she found the man slowly walk forward, assault rifle lowered, face turned up towards the sky as he looked at the fading stars with a distant look on his face...and as Miranda watched Michael closed his eyes...and took a deep breath, smiling. "Fresh air...didn't know how much I missed it."

_Oh for_... "Commander, I _said_..."

"I heard you." Michael replied, sounding relaxed as he opened his eyes and stepped forward, taking his place between the two Cerberus officers, looking out over the street ahead and its flanking buildings with a small smirk. "So...Freedom's Progress...not much of a welcome is it? I mean I come back from the dead and I don't even get a t-shirt? The audacity..."

Miranda blinked. _Was_ _that_..._a_ _joke_? Looking at him she saw nothing but that enduring smirk. "Shepard, we're here to-"

"I know." Michael interrupted, making Miranda glare daggers at him, daggers he ignored as he with a casualness in his gaze looked left and right.

"Technically you _got_ a t-shirt." Jacob muttered, the man looking a bit tense as he kept looking out over the buildings ahead. "But apparently you didn't like the logo."

Michael's smirk turned into a grin. "Oh yes, that's true, I miss the good old days when I could find myself a shirt without some damn company marking it as their property. Dammit, it's _my_ shirt!"

Miranda dully looked at the two soldiers, both chuckling a little, and felt what little patience she had evaporate as she kept her voice short: "Are you two done?"

"Yes." Jacob answered quickly, calming down.

Michael however chuckled a bit longer, straining Miranda's nerves as she glared at him...only to find him suddenly becoming still, tensing as his eyes narrowed at something in the distance. He raised his assault rifle, all mirth gone out of his voice: "Company."

Miranda blinked, then stared out into the distance...and indeed she could now see several shapes move towards them in the distance...making her lean forward as she stared in wonder, mind calculating: "Survivors maybe? Or whatever took the colonists?"

"No, mechs." Michael retorted, head craning left and right, narrowed eyes taking in the buildings with a cold look.

"How can you tell?" Miranda asked, puzzled as she kept staring at the moving shapes, willing them to come into focus. _My vision's perfect, yet I can't_-

"It's the way they move." Michael replied, shrugging...even as Miranda could finally begin to make out the skeletal shapes as they moved towards the group.

Jacob cocked his head to the side at the sight, eyes narrowing: "The colony did have security mechs...were they shut down during the attack...and then reactivated? By whom?"

"Perhaps..." Michael didn't finish the sentence, the man nodding to himself: "Primary objective is survivors, secondary information about this attack."

"Survivors are unlikely, it's more likely that these mechs were activated as per a predetermined schedule." Miranda argued, shrugging. "Information is more important."

Michael chuckled: "If we find survivors they will have information for us, likelihood of achieving the objective isn't a factor here Miranda."

Miranda took her eyes off the mechs, glaring at Michael with renewed energy, finding herself snapping at him: "Don't you lecture me on mission priorities!" The man looked back at her in surprise...only to narrow his eyes back at her. "I have been trained in leading missions since I was-"

A shot whizzed over their head, stopping Miranda's anger short as the three ducked under the low wall even as more shots slammed into the wall and over their heads.

Jacob risked a glance over the wall, growling in irritation as he ducked back down under a flurry of shots: "The mechs are firing at us, someone has reprogrammed them!"

"Wow, you _think_?" Michael chuckled, the man calmly leaning against the wall as more shots arched over their heads. "Since you both act surprised I'm going to guess this isn't what happened at the other colonies, ergo something important is here, we therefore engage them."

"Obviously." Miranda retorted, risking a glance over the wall. "I'm counting seven mechs, skirmish line." She eyed Michael with interest now. _Time to put you to the test_... "Plan how to engage them?"

He flinched at that, looking at her sharply...then smirking as he shrugged and looked over the wall. "I say...you stay here as I get into position."

"What?" Miranda stared in bafflement at their 'commander'...even as she was forced to turn her head as the man leapt over the wall...and then sprinted to the right, the mechs shots missing or striking his shields as he rushed for one of the buildings.

Both Miranda and Jacob stared in confusion.

_Dammit_! "Covering fire!" A moment later Miranda and Jacob both leapt up at her command, pistols jerking as they fired as fast as they could, the flurry of badly aimed shots drawing the mechs attention as Michael disappeared into the shadows of a building.

They ducked as the mechs fired, hugging the cover as more and more shots slammed into their wall, the mechs getting more and more accurate as they advanced...

And _fired_...

Miranda sighed, head dropping as she shook her head in exasperation. _Some_ _Commander_... "Right, let's wear them out before they're on top of us." She offered Jacob a nod...and then rose, pistol tracking the foremost mech in the centre of the advancing line.

To her left Jacob rose as well, his pistol loudly firing round after round even as Miranda held her fire, focusing on her target, lining up...

To the right of her target a mech jerked, chest dented, it fired back at Jacob, many others joining in even as a second shot struck the mech in the leg, making it stumble mid-step. Jacob strafed sideways, avoiding a flurry of shots...as a third hit from his gun struck his chosen mech in the chest, knocking it over with a hiss.

A shot made Miranda's shield flare...but she ignored it, nothing but focused on her target.

A slow squeeze of the trigger...and the mech's neck was torn apart, the head dropping in front of it as it slumped to its knees...only to explode in an orange blast.

Then the others turned their aim to her...and Miranda ducked back in cover next to Jacob as the railing above her began to become fall apart due to the number of shots slamming into it.

"Wonder where he went?" Jacob's voice was strained over the gunfire...but otherwise calm as he met her gaze.

"I'm beginning to doubt we got him back all sane." Miranda retorted with a grimace. _If he's not completely there I have to lead the mission, I_..._am unsure if I have the proper qualifications for that actually_... Her grimace worsened, she hated to admit it...but she was only a good leader to a point, Michael's track-record _dwarfed_ her own.

"He'll come through." Jacob replied, conviction in his eyes.

_I always hated that_... Miranda shook her head. "Optimism isn't really helping here Jacob! Now let's keep at it!"

They rose...pistols tracking new targets...only to find their aims ruined as both turned their heads to the right, staring at the black shape moving atop one of the buildings.

_Shepard_!

He was running, moving swiftly over the roof of one of the pre-fabricated buildings...shotgun in hand...and leaping forth.

Miranda stared in shock as the man came flying down...leaping right at the closest mech as it turned its head to look at him.

He swung as he came down, the butt of the shotgun smashing into the visor of the mech that went down with a crash, its head in an awkward angle even as Michael rolled with the sudden impact of his landing.

Behind him the mech exploded with the vital head severed so suddenly...which went ignored as Michael came flying to his feet, his sweeping shotgun striking the next mech in the line in the head with his barrel, sending it flying even as he fired, the shot taking the third mech in the line in the chest with an explosion of broken electronics.

Miranda was unsure if she even _dared_ assist him as the man jumped over the fallen Mech...and fired mid-air at the next mech that had begun to open up on him...

Its head came apart, the machine flailing...as Michael kicked it in the chest, sending it floundering into the last mech...only to explode, tearing both machines apart.

_Of all the foolish_... Miranda straightened, pistol lowered as she glared at Michael...who suddenly whirled about, shotgun turning to the mech he had knocked over with his swinging shotgun and which was struggling to get up.

A blast...and it fell over, chest smashed open.

Silence.

"Shepard!" Miranda vaulted the railing, eyes of ice as she stalked towards the man so casually holstering his glowing shotgun as he kicked one of the fallen mechs over, leaning down to inspect it.

_Ignoring_ her!

"Shepard! What kind of _ridiculous_ risk was _that_!" Miranda shook her head violently, advancing with swift steps as the man rose from his inspection. "Do you have _no_ concern for your safety! I didn't spend _two_ years to see you needlessly pull stunts like _that_! Or were you trying to show off how _fearless_ you are you foolish-!"

He turned, looked at her...and Miranda's words died in her throat.

This wasn't a cold uncaring iciness that she looked at, not military discipline, nor some amused bravado or berserker rage to muffle the natural fear of death.

No, she saw that he simply didn't fear it.

Death held _no_ fear for him, not in the _slightest_...and it was a strangely _frightening_ sight.

He smiled at her, but Miranda couldn't shake the sudden chill in her bones as he turned, assault rifle back in his hands, voice calm and almost cheerful.

"Let's go."

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_Thanks to Abydos Jackson for her stubborn insistence that I am useful. ;-)_


	6. Chapter 6

It felt good.

Fresh air in his lungs, the coldness of the early morning, the weapon in his hands.

It was familiar...yet new, invigorating both by virtue of the old memories...and that it was something _fresh_, something not just a memory.

He could still feel them in the back of his mind, churning within his skull, ready to tear him apart.

_Ignore it_.

He stepped forth, the Avenger assault rifle in his hands raised as he stepped round another downed mech, its chest riddled with craters. Michael _had_ considered the Vindicator rifle Jacob had shown him...but in the end his familiarity with the old – if upgraded – Avenger had won out, not to mention he liked the flexibility of the weapon. _Shame about the upgrade though, I don't much care for this stupid reloading_..._stupid new technology, back in the old days_... He smirked at his own grumbling, knowing it was ridiculous to complain, progress was impossible to stop after all.

Ahead the street was coming to an end, a large white building ahead blocking their path...and judging by where the resistance of the mechs had been so far Michael was guessing it lay in the path of their target as well...whatever it was.

Before him Miranda and Jacob had already reached the closed door to the building, Miranda on its right, Jacob on its left, backs against the wall and pistol and shotgun respectively raised and ready.

Michael had already read their files on the way to Freedom's Progress, and say what you will about Cerberus, their resumes were impressive, as was Cerberus' willingness to give Michael such an access to their network.

Jacob's had been a solid track-record of exemplary service in several classified operations, obviously a dependable soldier Michael had already an impression of the man as a solid lieutenant and fighter that would be upfront with his opinions. That he had served in the Alliance – and had been one of their best – was also a plus.

Miranda had a shorter record than Jacob...in lieu with starting with operations later in her life Michael admitted, _why_ she had started later though had still been classified to him. On the other hand her shorter record had actually been _more_ impressive...she was clearly powerful and skilled at all things she did, and always got results. On the other hand she was about as warm as an icicle...though Michael didn't doubt she was as capable a commander as she _could_ be given her short real experience, the fact the Illusive man had basically made her his right hand only further proved her capabilities.

_And the Illusive man's willing to give __both__ of them to me with the new Normandy_..._he must __really__ be desperate_...

So far Michael had _no_ intention of joining however, while the Council and the Alliance might not be listening right now Michael could at least _try_ to get back to them and restart his campaign against the Reapers. And while colonies being abducted was horrible and such...Michael was meant to fight the _Reapers_...not pirates. _Unless I find anything more solid about the Reapers involvement I'm going to give him the finger_..._heh_..._sounds_ _like_ _fun_...

Miranda threw him a glare, as if having _heard_ his thoughts...but Michael only smiled as he belatedly moved up to take his position behind Jacob, assault rifle at the ready.

Jacob glanced back at him...and Michael nodded.

Instantly Jacob's free hand shot up, thumping the activation switch to the door, making it slide open even as the three smoothly moved forth to storm the room, surprisingly in tune despite their lack of training together.

They were greeted by weapon barrels, half a dozen of them pointing at the three, yet _not_ firing as the Quarians holding them regarded the new arrivals.

_Quarians_!

A Quarian in danger, gory knife held tight to her chest as she lay knocked over in Fist's office.

A feast, a Quarian crying with happiness from his gift and his promise to aid her people.

An omni-tool aglow, a teasing voice of Michael's bad hacking techniques.

Comforting words as he wept...broken but mending.

Michael blinked, the memories all too vivid as he stared at the visors and the glowing eyes beneath...their weapons forgotten as he lowered his assault rifle. _Friends_...

"Stop right there!" The foremost Quarian yelled, assault rifle jerking between the three before him. "Cerberus scum!"

"Wait! We're _not_ here to _fight_!" _That_ _voice_... Michael felt as if his limbs suddenly weighted a ton as a slim shape pushed herself past the other Quarians, thin hand landing on the foremost Quarian's assault rifle and pushing it downwards. "_I'm_ in charge here Prazza, _not_ you!"

Michael's shoulders slumped, an unknown tension releasing as he stared, at the back of the Quarian pushing forth, even with her back to him he would have recognised her anywhere, her suit, her stance...it was _her_.

"Tali..." His voice was but a choked rasp.

The woman spun...the purple visor facing him, silver eyes growing wide.

_Her_...

Michael felt as if he'd become submerged in water, his assault rifle falling from limp hands as his right hand sluggishly moved up towards his face...

Him sitting up in his bed, calming...and a gloved hand reaching forth, towards his face...

She never touched him back then, he remembered that, yet he still felt it like a soft caress on his cheek as his gauntleted hand came up to brush his face...

There was no answer from the Quarian, her eyes wide as she stared at him.

Michael felt something wet in the corner of his eyes. "Tali..."

He took a step forward.

"Mi-" There was a choked sound from the woman, body tense, quivering like a startled deer. "Mich-" A slow shake of her head, voice a pained whisper: "No..."

Another slow step forward, mind nearly numb, overcome. "Tali..."

"No..." Another shake of her head, then a step backwards. "No...no...no..." The shaking became more vigorous, both of head and body as the Quarian took another step backwards.

Michael blinked, confused, yet unable to halt his sluggish step forward. "I..._Tali_..."

"_No_!" It was a _shriek_...and Michael stopped dead in his tracks, watching in horror as time sped back up, as Tali, his _Tali_...jumped back, _away_ from him. "It can't..._no_!" The woman stumbled backwards, nearly tripping over her own feet, then – as Michael instinctively reached out to help – leapt in behind the Quarian she so recently had yelled at, hands clutching his shoulders as she put him up like a shield between herself and Michael.

_Horror_.

Michael didn't think he was capable of it any longer, not after fighting Saren, of Ashley's death, of confronting Sovereign, of _dying_...

Yet now he felt it, jaws of ice closing around his guts, freezing him to the spot as he stared, lips trembling as he tried to speak: "T...T-Tali?"

"You're..." The Quarian gasped, hands curling tight around the shoulders of the man she was covering behind. "..._no_...can't be...nononononononono..." A choked sound, a whimper: "_Dead_..."

"I'm...not..." Michael answered, but his words lacked conviction, power, his entire body feeling...drained. "T-Tali..._p-please_..."

"She's not interested in talking, whoever you are." The Quarian Tali had called Prazza retorted, sharp finger pointing at Michael. "So why don't you turn back and leave before we put a hole through your skull?"

Miranda snorted, reminding Michael that there was, in fact, more then three people in the room. "This is Commander Shepard, and I suggest you order your little troop there to _lower_ their weapons before they do anything they'll _regret_."

"Shepard?" The Quarian hesitated, then glanced back at the others, nodding at them to lower their weapons even as he threw a glance at the covering Tali, eyes narrowing in..._dislike_? Michael found himself growling at that, making Prazza look back at him. "We've heard a lot of you, the big hero aren't you?" A small snort. "I heard you died, or so Miss Weepy here claimed back on the Flotilla."

Michael took a step forward, hands curling into fists. "Don't you _dare_ call her-!" His anger faded instantly as he saw the way Tali quaked by his mere advance...and felt all air leave him even _before_ Miranda put a hand on his shoulder to hold him back, to stop him from doing anything rash, like advancing on _Tali_...

Miranda's tone was short and to the point, irritated with the man. "Cerberus brought Shepard back."

"Bringing a man back from the dead? That's disgusting." Prazza retorted even as Tali shook behind him, staring at Michael with eyes wide in horror as he pleadingly looked back. _What_..._why is she_..._I can't_..._no_... "And foolishly expensive."

"Our investments are none of your concern." Miranda replied with a hint of a growl. "Now, what are you doing here? I hardly think it's the _Quarians_ who abducted the entire colony here..."

Tali was slowly moving backwards, arms close to her chest as she stared at Michael, her left hand moving upwards to her neck...three thin fingers reaching up...to _nothing_. Michael swallowed, he remember the little computer he had given Tali so she could contact him when she or her people needed help, he remembered how it had been fastened to a chain...a chain _not_ around her neck, a computer _not_ resting against her chest.

_Tali_...?

His gaze moved up to Tali's face...only to find her turning her head away, unable to look at him any more, _unwilling_.

Michael felt as if he'd been struck, he felt baffled, hurt, confused, horrified.

Mostly he felt..._lost_.

_Two years_...

His shoulders slumped, body feeling heavy as it sunk in, the losses, the realisation that death and time had eroded it _all_ away. It had not only ripped asunder his campaign against the Reapers, not only made him nothing but a martyr and a distant memory of heroism to many...it had taken away what he'd learnt to love...

His companions...his _friends_...had moved on...and he was _alone_.

_But_..._I_..._Tali_..._I thought we_...

There was no answer to his silent pleading, the Quarian looking away, body shaking as she clutched her shoulders, hugging herself.

In the distance he heard Prazza's voice, irritated: "We're _not_ kidnappers, unlike _some_." Miranda snorted in retort. "No, we're here because a Quarian named Veetor on pilgrimage activated a distress beacon he'd been given. He's a mess, that's why he got it in the first place, and I doubt whatever happened here _helped_ things. We're supposed to get him, but so far all these mechs have been in the way, we think _he_ reactivated them." A pause, tone turning even more hostile. "Now, why are _you_ here?"

Silence.

Then Jacob sighing: "We're here to investigate the disappearance of colonists, as has happened here. Your Veetor might know what happened."

Michael _knew_ he should intervene, lead, try to put things together.

But all he _could_ do was to stare at Tali, stare and...grieve.

She shuddered under his gaze, drew further back, rubbing her shoulders even as she swayed, as if ready to faint.

_Tali_..._I_..._sorry_...

She flinched, Michael knew she could read body-language like no other...and probably saw his grief...and it only seemed to hurt her even _further_.

_So sorry_...

He knew he should look away, spare Tali his gaze and the pain it obviously caused...yet he _couldn't_, his gaze remained fixed on her, _drinking_ her in, memories filtering before his vision even as he kept staring, wanting nothing but to touch her, to make sure she was _real_...to _feel_ her.

But he couldn't, he could only stand there, stand and stare, stand and hurt them _both_...

It was agony.

"Right, the logical choice is that we team up and work together to defeat these mechs so we both can get what we want." Miranda concluded in the distance, voice calm but rigid.

"Like we'll work with Cerberus!" Prazza snapped back, derision tingeing his voice.

Miranda chuckled at that: "Very well, the _alternative_ is that we end up having a gunfight right now, and whoever survives goes to confront those mechs your friend has waiting for us...how high do you rank your chances of fighting the mechs while already having suffered substantial losses? _If_ you even win this fight...I _highly_ doubt that."

Silence.

"What was that?" Miranda snorted. "You think working together would be preferable? A grunt with a brain, impressive..."

Silence.

Then Prazza's voice, low and strained: "We have tracked him to a complex to the west...I'll take my team and circle to the north and draw some of the mechs away into the streets, you go through the buildings ahead."

"Sounds like a plan." Miranda replied, amused. "See? We can all be reasonable and get what we want."

There was nothing but a grumble in reply. The Quarian gesturing for the others to follow as he moved towards a door at the other end of the room, none of them holstered their weapons though, glancing worriedly at the humans at their back as they moved to enact the plan with their reluctant allies.

All but Tali, the woman holding her hands together close to her chest, looking away...then slowly turning her head to look at Michael.

He winced at the sight, her eyes were small...and even obscured by the visor he saw that they were _sad_...grieving.

She looked so...small.

_I'm sorry_...

Michael felt something warm trickle down his face...and couldn't bring himself to move to brush away the tears as he stared at her...the few steps between them a mile long.

_So sorry_...

Tali didn't say anything, she just turned, shoulders slumped...and walked after the other Quarians.

In the doorway the light of a distant lamp made her silhouette small and thin...like it had been in his cabin as they approached Ilos so long ago...

Yet this time she was facing away from him, _walking_ away...

Michael felt his heart quake.

His mouth opened...but no words came.

And then she was gone.

_Tali_..._I'm_ _so_ _sorry_...

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_Thanks to Abydos Jackson for managing to read this through and come out unscathed._


	7. Chapter 7

He had handed Veetor over to the Quarians.

Miranda still couldn't quite believe it, _comprehend_ it...

Veetor had _vital_ information...and though they'd received his recordings from his omni-tool...a more thorough questioning _would_ have been helpful. Not to mention that the Quarians had _betrayed_ them, having tried to get to Veetor first to steal him away...

Yet Michael had given Veetor back to the Quarians without even a moment's hesitation...he'd even _snapped_ at her when she'd tried to argue against it...

It left her _fuming_.

The briefing room was covered in darkness, save the cage of orange light surrounding Michael as the man, still in his armour from the mission, talked to the Illusive man. Keeping to a corner of the room Miranda leant against the railing, arms crossed over her chest glaring daggers at the man's back.

Or maybe not _him_ specifically...

It was _her_ fault after all.

_Bloody_ _Quarian_...

Michael _had_ been ready to bring Veetor in...right up to that moment when that Quarian girl had entered, shouting at Miranda and Jacob about Veetor being traumatized and needing medical care and not an interrogation..._then_ the man had changed his tune _completely_.

Miranda gritted her teeth at the memory.

Suddenly Veetor, Jacob and her had been forgotten...all that _existed_ was pleasing that girl by _agreeing_ with her. And then there was the whole _concern_ for her safety since she was off to some _other_ mission for the Quarians...and the _regret_ that she couldn't come along...

It was sickening.

Not only because the woman _clearly_ didn't want it. She didn't _want_ to come along, she didn't _want_ Michael's concern, she didn't _want_ him to agree with her...she hadn't even wanted him to _look_ at her...it had been so clear it had almost been painful.

Not only had it been how their goal, their mission and the thousands of colonists disappearing hadn't mattered any more...that Michael _refused_ to see their need for _results_ over helping a race of _vagrants_ with giving back their _defunct_ member.

No...that wasn't all, it had been the way Michael had inched closer just at the end of their conversation, how he'd tried to _touch_ the Quarian...how she had recoiled from it.

_Desiring an alien_..._disgusting_.

Miranda's face crunched up in a grimace.

She could understand comradeship, at least partly. Tali'Zorah Nar Rayya – now Vas Neema according to her file – had been on Michael's ground team during his campaign against Saren, so despite her race it was natural that a friendship would rise out of it, forged in the heat of battle and all that...or so Miranda's books on leadership _claimed_.

Yet for _romance_ to grow out of such hardships – and with an _alien _no less – was something out of a bad novel. Miranda's mind briefly drew up a picture of Jacob...and she winced. _Probably possible though_...

_Right, this is getting me nowhere, I should focus on the positives instead_.

First, they had Veetor's omni-tool data. While the data wasn't anything new, just the regular readings of lingering dark energy they had detected on several other attack colonies, the pieced together security footage was a _real_ breakthrough. They had suspected the Collectors for some time...but now they had hard evidence of them being the aggressors, giving Cerberus a target to focus on.

Secondly, Tali had refused to follow with them, which meant no more ridiculous distractions for Michael, _if_ he chose to join Cerberus that is...Miranda was currently unsure if he _would_, making her watch the man's back with worry.

She had to admit, however grudgingly, that despite the hiccup with Veetor the man had delivered what the Illusive man had expected, _results_. While Miranda was still unsure about Michael's mental stability, and his fearlessness was actually a _concern_, he had still shown himself as able as his reports had hinted at.

Though now...Miranda couldn't help but think of the negative.

However positive it was that that the Quarian had left to mind her own business...her leaving had clearly left Shepard..._empty_. It was as if he'd lost all energy...even as she watched the man stood and communicated with the Illusive man, back hunched, head downcast, shoulders slumped.

He looked...beaten.

_Perhaps he'll join us then_? _Simply too weak-willed to resist_?

Miranda nearly snorted at the thought, a depressed commander was of no use to them, and a big part of _why_ they had brought the man back _was_ his legendary power of will.

_So_..._he's useless then_. She felt a hint of panic at the thought, since that would put _her_ in charge...something she was surely _capable_ of...yet the legendary Shepard would without a doubt have been better.

Sighing, she shifted her feet, watching as Michael argued with the Illusive man, voice low and without fire: "So you suspected the Collectors already, good for you, want a gold star?" _Sulking_ _child_... Miranda snorted. "Yes, I suppose it's _me_ who should get the gold star for finding the video, I'm a real _hero_." This time it was _Michael_ who snorted.

She shook her head. Didn't he realise what an _honour_ it was to have a _personal_ debriefing with the Illusive man? Yet he _persisted_ with being difficult...behaving childishly._ I spent two years rebuilding him and that pathetic Quarian ruined him in __minutes__, should have just shot her_...

"Right, so you already suspected the Collectors behind the attack on the Normandy, I suppose I _could_ buy that...I fail to see why that would motivate me however. You brought me back to fight the _Reapers_, I _intend_ to fight the Reapers, the Collectors might piss me off by killing me, but I honestly know that I have bigger fish to fry."

_At least he's got his prioritises straight_..._revenge_ _is_ _for_ _the_ _weak_.

There was a weary sigh from Michael at something the Illusive man said: "You've already said that, yes they attacked the Normandy after Sovereign's defeat, yes their shift to humans just after that battle is suspicious, but it's _not_ evidence." Somehow he managed to lower his head even farther as he mumbled: "Great, now I sound like the Council..."

_Yes you do_. Miranda shook her head. She could actually agree with Michael's decision to save the Council, it kept the political stability in Citadel space intact and while not exactly promoting human interests...it didn't antagonize the average alien against humanity any more then they already were.

Yet that didn't mean she had to _like_ the Council and their moderate policies that kept political and diplomatic relationships and development largely stagnant with their unreasonable great fear of instability. If something _positive_ was to happen one would first have to _allow_ for _change_!

Michael stiffened a little in front of Miranda, the first hint that he wasn't completely dead within. "I _realise_ that I don't have any _better_ leads, but I'm not about to become an ally with Cerberus, toss aside what little I can recover with the Alliance and the Council and abandon my investigation about the Geth and their relationship with the Reapers based on _your_ _hunch_."

_Damn that hostility towards Cerberus, it will make potential further work with him problematic at best_..._bloody ingrate_. Miranda shook her head. She could _understand_ Michael's hostility, she _really_ could, Cerberus had _anything_ but a spotless reputation and the Cerberus cells Michael had confronted and destroyed back in his hunt for Saren were...less than sterling examples of what Cerberus did to assist humanity.

Yet Cerberus had done a lot for humanity, funded colonies and stopped anti-human terror cells, mostly without anyone being none the wiser. They had protected human interests where the Alliance couldn't or _wouldn't_ do anything...and had even been instrumental in driving the Turian Hierarchy and the Alliance into _building_ the previous _Normandy_, mostly so they could analyse Turian technology sure, but it had also mended some of the wounds from the First Contact war.

No, Cerberus wasn't evil, had never been...and Miranda loathed that stigma.

"Okay, so they're a bit of a mystery, there's quite a few races in the Terminus that don't like to actually integrate with the rest of the galactic society, take the Batarians for instance, none but _criminals_ escape their planets because their government is so paranoid about outside influence." Michael shrugged, his movement...tired. "And I don't see them using mercenaries to capture strangely abnormal examples of different species as all that interesting, it's disgusting yes, but again, I have bigger things then kidnappings to deal with."

Miranda shook her head, she knew exactly what the Illusive man was talking of, it was _she_ who had collected the information about the insectoid aliens for him after all...but apparently Michael wasn't biting. Never mind that _he_ had acted on less then perfect evidence back with Saren and Sovereign...he seemed content to _argue_ against anything the Illusive man threw at him.

_Ingrate_...

A sigh. "Yes, fine, they have advanced technology, I grant you that, I mean they _had_ to have that to even _detect_ the old Normandy while it ran silent...and yes the Reapers have advanced technology, _way_ beyond us, Sovereign if anything proved that." Michael shook his lowered head, sounding..._annoyed_, tired with arguing something he didn't actually care about.

_Damn that Quarian_...

"No, that doesn't prove anything. Just because the Asari and Turians both have head-fringes doesn't mean they're related, so neither does two races having advanced technology show that they are in any way cooperating or even _know_ of each other." Michael's shoulders somehow managed to sink even lower, body hunched, tone weary. "Can we get this over with? You don't have anything solid and I'm..._tired_...I just want to..." A shudder. "...just let me go okay? Or shoot me, I honestly don't care either way."

Miranda shook her head, feeling..._disappointed_. Michael was supposed to be a great icon of fighting spirit and ability...not this...empty shell. He was supposed to lead them, to rally humanity and other races back into a fight with the Reapers once more...an inspiring example as much as an actual soldier, meant to reawaken the belief in the Reaper threat.

Without him things would prove...problematic. For despite all her abilities Miranda _wasn't_ an icon, she was _unknown_...and not someone anyone would rally around.

_Damn that Quarian and this_..._weakling_. She glared at Michael.

"Fine, I'm listening, where do they come from?" Michael asked, sighing as he inched backwards, ready to leave.

Silence.

Michael going still.

Miranda watched...as Michael took a step forward, head rising, something in his stance...stiffening. "And the Omega four Relay is unmapped...why?"

Silence.

And Michael straightened even further, a hint of interest in his voice all of a sudden: "They...can manipulate a Relay?"

Silence, the Illusive man no doubt confirming it from his end of the communication.

More silence, Michael's head lowered, forehead creasing into a frown as a hand moved up to scratch his chin.

Then he stood up straight, head rising.

And his voice was utterly calm, bereft of the weakness he so recently had shown: "I'll help."

_Huh_!

If the Illusive man was as surprised as Miranda she couldn't hear it, nor was Michael interested in doing so as he swiftly turned and walked out of his cage of light, eyes distant as he moved towards the door.

"Good to have you with us Commander..." Miranda said, voice tinged with he surprise as she straightened, looking at him.

He didn't look at her, gaze remaining distant as he rumbled forth, grief still behind his eyes, yet now _thoughts_ moved behind there as well, _plans_.

The door slid open as he passed her, his words but a whisper.

"Another choice..."

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_A thousand thanks to Abydos Jackson._


	8. Chapter 8

_He's dead_.

Thump.

Thump.

Thump.

There was little air in the large engine, but what little there was was enough to make the sound of her hands and feet hitting the metal rungs lining the length of it echo in the otherwise empty cylinder.

Thump.

Thump.

Thump.

_Dead_.

Her thought seemed to fill the void of the silenced engine, becoming a whisper within the emptiness, bouncing within it, taunting her.

_Dead, dead, dead, dead, dead_...

Below the retractable floor had been pushed in front of the round opening, sealing one of eight engines of the Neema from the vacuum of space, and above the door to the rest of the ship had been sealed as well, leaving her _alone_...

But not away from her thoughts, thoughts she _couldn't_ escape.

Thump.

Thump.

Thump.

The rungs were thin, worn down from thousands of hands and feet using them, from the removing of rust, the Neema was an old ship after all.

She wished one would snap, plunging her down to the floor below.

It wouldn't kill her, but perhaps break a bone or two, some pain of the body, instead of this numbing..._agony _of her heart...would be preferable.

Instead she found her feet hitting the floor, her hands releasing the rungs before her.

There was work to be done...but she just stood there, emptily staring at the wall.

_Dead_...

Her hands shook.

A shuddering breath...and she turned. At the other end of the 'room' there was a worn plate that could be opened by opening the locks in each corner, behind which the most vital of wiring to the engine could be found for maintenance.

Tali pushed the strap of her toolbox over her head...dropped it to the floor with a loud clank...and did the unthinkable.

She sat down, uncaring of her maintenance work as she eased back against the wall, relying on the hard metal to keep her steady as the world spun around her.

_He's_ _dead_...

The words echoed within her skull, painful and unconvincing.

She had _seen_ him..._heard_ him...and even through the olfactory receptors of her helmet...she had _scented_ him.

But it _couldn't_ be...

A gasp escaped her, her lungs struggling with heavy breaths as a hand moved up, pressing against her visor, keeping her head back as he body struggled with the feeling of shock that over and over rushed through her body, turning it to a quivering mess of grief and pain.

_I_..._can't do this_..._not again_...

None would disturb her down there, she was considered a hero and the pride of the Flotilla after all, if she told them there was a problem needing a lot of work down in the engine they _believed_ her. Not that many would be looking for her anyway, Quarians were a social people, close to one another, and she was considered one of their finest...yet somehow just that, that she was considered a step above...separated her from the others.

No, there weren't many that would be worried if she lingered in her solitude, and though that might have proven painful when she returned...it had become just another dull fact of the greyness that had permeated her life.

It wasn't just the fact that she had fought against Saren with Michael, nor that she had killed so many Geth during that time, no, it had been that she'd raised the acceptance of Quarians everywhere in the galaxy by her name becoming known..._that_ had made her a hero among them.

_Which would never have happened without him_...

It was also by virtue of the data she had returned with from her pilgrimage, data that had saved _countless_ Quarian lives through the years.

_Not my gift to the Quarian people, __his__ gift_.

The thoughts were bitter.

Not because she was envious, or disliked him, those events lay close to her heart...no...it was because it came with the worst of endings.

_He- __It_..._nearly touched me_...

She could still see that desperate look in hi-_its_ eyes before here, that shaky way he-_it_ had leant forward, reaching out to touch her. It was painfully similar to what she had done before Ilos...

_Both_ times the other had withdrawn, but there was a horrible difference as well between the two moments...and that was that it _couldn't_ be him! That it was _impossible_! That...she couldn't _allow_ it!

Her hands came up, gripping tightly at one another as she clutched them close to her chest, rocking back and forth where she sat as she squeezed her eyes shut, trying to hold back the growing pain within.

It _hurt_..._so_ much...

It hadn't always been so, while it was painful to leave for the Flotilla and leave Michael and all they had suffered through and felt behind...it had been a happy kind of pain. It hadn't even been an end, they had talked, sent messages, Michael had even _flirted_ at times... it had been a soft kind of lingering behind...that had kept their friendship alive and...let that little mote of _hope_ kindle.

But that had been two years ago, before the message from Anderson, before...

Tali's mouth was wrenched open by an unknown force, a pitiful moan escaping her as she felt that old pain wash over her, a suffocating dark thing...as if she was drowning in blood...

_I can't_..._please_..._I can't_...

With a groan she forced her eyes open, pried her hands away from each other, her body shaking as she with a _need_ reached down for the toolbox, opening it...and finding the little box of personal possessions she kept hidden away, the box nearly hidden under the worn-down tools.

It was of wood, something of a rarity among Quarian items, and that was because it _wasn't_ of Quarian make. The Council's insignia was stamped on the front of the dark brown box, it having once contained the award they had bestowed on those on Michael's team, Tali's had been, on her father's order, moved to the Quarian hall of pride, a trophy and an honour for _all_ Quarians to share. Michael had, when she'd mentioned that in a message, grumbled something about it being _her_ honour...but in the end Tali hadn't minded. She had kept the _box_ though...for it was a part of _her_, of her past.

Her right hand clutched the bottom of the box tightly, her left trembling as it reached down to open the lid.

A small snap...and the lid opened, the folded purple cloak at the bottom looked strangely bright and colourful to Tali's eyes, not worn down, a memento of her dancing exercises back when she had returned to the Flotilla, a silly demand made by her aunt...a cloak now mostly used as a cushion. She paid that no heed, her eyes fixed on the three items within the box, so _small_, so _precious_...so..._painful_.

Her fingers first caught the silver bracelet. A gift from Kaidan ages ago, it had been meant for poor Ashley, Tali knew it, yet she still kept it. It reminded her of happier days, of friendships...compassion...of a time before Ashley's death and Kaidan's bitterness consuming him, before...all the pain had torn them apart.

A sad smile managed to sneak its way to Tali's mouth...her hand moving to clasp the bracelet meant for a far thicker arm over her right upper arm. It felt good on her...good and..._tainted_.

For when it came down to it...those friendships were gone, _all_ of it..._gone_.

Not all at once, no, Michael's death had just...struck deep. With him gone there had been a hole in Tali...a hole that no distant friendship with the old team could fill, nor a hole anyone on the Flotilla – not even her father – seemed _interested_ to fill...

So she had done it herself, her father had for a long time wanted her to lead like him, to use her proven abilities in their fight against the Geth. So Tali had gone along, lead mission upon mission down into Geth territory. Each mission had been a reminder of what had been lost, of that she _wasn't_ Michael, that Michael wasn't _there_ any longer. Each Quarian death had been a failure, a reminder of her failings...and slowly chipped away at her, drained her until she had felt hollow.

Wonderfully, painlessly, emotionlessly..._hollow_.

Shuddering she looked away from the bracelet, hand and gaze moving back to the rest of the content in the box.

The little memory disc was a disgusting thing, silver but glowing dull red...a stored program Tali so many times had wished to delete permanently...yet couldn't bring herself to do so. And now she activated her omni-tool...and connected it to the disc, beginning the download that always made her loathe herself.

She had...bought the program...two months after Michael's death.

She had never even _dreamt_ of doing so before he died...yet after two months of weeping, of sobbing, of _agony_...she had needed something, _anything_...to fill that void within her, to make her feel anything else.

And now that agony was hounding her again, as fresh and painful as if it had happened yesterday...and she _needed_ it gone.

As the download proceeded, Tali's fingers couldn't help but reach down, plucking the last item from the box she let fall to the floor as both hands came up to hold the small computer attached to its silver chain in her palms.

It had been Michael's gift to her, a VI she could use to contact him if she or her people ever needed a helping hand. Before his death she had always kept it on...and after...

A choked sob escaped her as her fingers curled around the cracked ellipse of a computer, the memory once more appearing, _hounding_ her as it had since she'd seen hi-_it_...again.

She remembered how her fingers had fluttered over the computer over and over, faster and faster, trying to find him, remembered _desperately_ needing to hear anything _but_ that beep of no contact... and remembered her shriek, how her arm had been but a blur as she had thrown it at the wall, breaking it.

_I_..._shouldn't have_..._done_ _that_...

Her hands opened, watching the crack running down the middle of the computer, a crack that might as well have been etched in her weary heart...

Ever since Michael had gone...it had all fallen apart...life wearing away at her...she was just...floating through life in a sea of greyness...the agony of her continued failures and lives lost under her command nothing but a distant thing...

In her helmet her suit's VI called out, voice dull: "Program downloaded, Nerve-stim professional edition, commands?"

Tali hesitated, eyes closing as a pained whimper escaped her, the pain so...fresh. She needed it...gone...if but for a _moment_, if...she needed it _gone_.

Her voice was but a whisper: "Run program..."

She had thought the agony of the loss gone, buried under time and weariness, it had taken half a year – something abnormal for a Quarian who on the old ships of the Flotilla was surrounded by death – but she had finally gotten over the loss of Michael, letting it fade along with all colour of life...

It had been a good exchange.

Under her suit, against a skin she had rarely seen...she felt a tingling around her chest, the nerve-stimulator program brushing her breasts...as she imagined it to be the tentative touch of someone gone...

The pain hadn't disappeared though, it had only been buried deep beneath, a wound closing badly...and now _ripped_ open...all her work to diminish the pain..._gone_...just like that.

It was agony.

The tingling increased, moving down over her belly, down her spine...and she shuddered as her head tilted back, eyes screwing shut as warm tears ran down her cheeks.

_I can't_..._he can't be alive_..._it's not_..._I can't bear it_...

She gasped, the tingling becoming intense as it suddenly pushed down between her legs.

It was an empty pleasure, but it _was_ pleasure, a distraction...

A _failing_ distraction.

She had hoped so much...and then he had disappeared...and she had replaced agony with emptiness...

Only to have him reappear, step in front of her, larger then life...

It had been so _painful_...

A low moan escaped her as she writhed where she sat, the tingling intensifying, surrounding her hips and reaching her rear...

Only to become a choked sob as her tear-filled eyes flicked open, staring at the cracked computer in her hands. "_Michael_...why did you...?"

She couldn't finish the question, the feelings surging over her skin and soul too powerful to ignore.

It was as much a cry of pleasure as it was of agony, her body twisting as she dropped onto her side, the computer growing in front of her as she pulled it closer to the visor of her suit.

He had seemed so _real_...in a world that had become so bereft of colour, of life...he had appeared, _glowing_ with life..._immortal_.

_I can't_...

She cried out, unsure for what reason, her body stricken with pain and pleasure, _both_ hated.

Every _cell_ in her body had cried out in joy at the sight of him, her every _instinct_ had told her it _was_ him. He had moved like him, looked like him, talked like him, smelled like him...all of it...was _Michael_.

And _that_ was what hurt...that it _was_ him...and that she _couldn't_ accept it, couldn't _stand_ to accept it! Couldn't _endure_ it...

_He's dead_..._yet_..._I saw_..._no_..._I can't_!_ He can't be_!_ I can't stand it_!_ I don't __want__ it_! She shook her head violently as she remained on her side, hands dropping the computer onto the floor as they flew down, pressing against her suit between her legs as the tingling turned intense. Eyes wide she stared at the fallen computer, unable to look away from it...and _hating_ herself for it.

_No hope_..._no chance_..._no more pain_! _No more foolish happiness_! She jerked , twisting where she lay as a low sob escaped her. _No more agony_! _No_ _more_ _hope_! She _had_ felt it, the briefest jolts of _happiness_...of _hope_ when she'd seen him...and _known_ what would come. More pain, more agony, more..._grief_.

And she _had_ grieved...for _far_ too long, until her body could grieve no more, until part of her had fallen, _withered_...

Only to have him thrown in her face, or rather...that _thing_ that looked like him...to feel it all over again...

_I can't bear it_!

She was panting, weeping, no air left in her lungs as she gasped: "E-end pr-program..."

Instantly the tingling disappeared, leaving her drained, empty, and as always..._unfulfilled_.

Silence.

Nothing but her slow breathing, body shaking with sobs her lungs could no longer voice...

_Michael_...

The greyness was once more moving against her, threatening to swallow her, yet now it was tinged with red pain...and she knew it would slowly grow, that she couldn't escape it, that it would swallow her, destroy her...and that she'd _welcome_ it over what she'd become.

_Michael_...

She squeezed her eyes shut, sniffling, _weeping_.

_Michael_...

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_Thanks to Abydos Jackson for being such a trooper._


	9. Chapter 9

_She hates me_.

The thought was dead in his skull, a weary echo as he dully looked at the swaying – and barely covered – ass of the dancing Asari.

He wasn't even _really_ looking at her, she was just on that dancing platform above the bar...and as such the thing in his vision as he kept staring into nothing. Yet another Asari in her skimpy outfit dancing for the credits thrown at her by leering idiots whose _only_ contribution to the galaxy – if even _that_ – was not to ruin someone _else's_ life.

_An impending doom of the coming Reapers, war all over the Terminus, Omega itself full of nothing but criminals_..._and all they can think of is to stare at a woman that could be working as a Commando instead_...

Michael would have laughed if he could, but all that escaped him was a weary scoff.

He felt..._alone_.

Again the thought, unwilling to leave him; _She hates me_...

Still it echoed within his mind, as it had ever since he'd seen her...ever since...

He grimaced.

_Clearly I'm not drunk enough_.

He looked down, the glass on the black bar – one could barely see the old blood-stains – was half-empty, the content a light red in colour. Michael had asked the bartender to keep them coming, and to keep surprising him. So far Michael wasn't all impressed. Watered down no doubt...

He shot the Turian bartender – busy at the other end of the bar – a glare...before downing the rest of the glass.

It wasn't all that impressive.

He shook his head, glowering at the dancing Asari, glumly wondering if he should just wave her over and...he wasn't sure what, forget about life for a while?

_She hates me_.

The worst part that no matter how depressing it was, no matter how painful it was, to know that Tali, his _Tali_, hated him, and that the others no doubt didn't feel any better...it still wasn't enough to tip him over the edge. He'd felt himself die, he'd seen oblivion, he had no fear of dying...yet _surrendering_...he couldn't do that. Not for his own sake...but for the others.

_Every slime in the galaxy_... He smirked at that, eyeing some of the disgusting patrons of the bar Afterlife with a dull amusement. _Ah, the people one fights for_.

Yet he couldn't bring himself to stop because of such a sight, for he remembered Tali's words, so long ago...yet _still_ feeling like yesterday; "_No, Michael_..._that you are a __good__ man_."

He couldn't let that go, it was that _one_ diamond in the dirt, the _one_ thing that made his strings of failures, losses and struggles _worthwhile_.

_I choose to be a good man_..._to help_.

The thought didn't carry as much strength as it used to, it felt..._hollow_.

_Even if the one who said it no longer believes it, even if __I__ can't quite believe it_...

It hurt.

_I_..._don't __feel__ different_. He frowned at the empty glass before his face, confused. _Yet she...I know it's been two years, yet I can't_..._I_..._she_..._why_ _does_ _she_ _hate_ _me_! It was frustrating...painful...confusing...and _frightening_.

_Who am I_...?

A slam of the glass against the worn bar...and Michael waved the startled bartender over for another drink, his glare stopping the sour look about to appear on the Turian's face.

Behind him there was a sigh, but Michael ignored it, comfortable on his chair and in his brooding. Before him the Turian moved to fill up a fresh glass with something blue...but Michael didn't pay it much heed as he stared down at the empty one in his hand.

At first he'd been...confused, and _hurt_, definitively hurt. Yet when he had left Freedom's Progress he'd _tried_ to think it through, to figure out what had _happened_...to analyse Tali's reaction.

It had actually gone well...he'd tried to see it from her perspective, to figure her out...for a while.

Then the thought had appeared, first but an illogical whisper, but then growing stronger...

_She hates me_.

It overruled all other thoughts, all attempts to think it through, and now, whenever he tried to think back to what happened...

_She hates me_.

He grimaced. _Yeah_..._more_ _drink_ _it_ _is_. He pushed the empty glass aside and reached for the new, fingers pushing it back momentarily before he got a good grip on it.

Again, the sigh behind him, this time more insistent.

"Yes, Miranda?" He grumbled, irritated with being disturbed in his wallowing.

"I'm...quite impressed with how you handled Aria." The Cerberus woman reluctantly admitted, making Michael smirk into his glass. _Stings, doesn't it_?

"Yeah." Jacob grunted. "At first I thought you were crazy...but damn if she didn't actually end up _liking_ you." He actually sounded a bit puzzled.

Michael's smirk turned into a distant smile as he stared into his drink, briefly wondering what it was this time even as he felt memory after memory of his time back on earth flow over him. Time spent with his gang, with the town's different mobs, the bosses...they weren't pleasant memories, but they were part of him, and he _always_ made use of what he had. "Speak softly to those in power...and show your strength against the henchmen."A memory, blood on his hands, a fat man smirking at him from behind his desk... "Works every time..."

"Yes, well, _very_ impressive." Miranda snorted, tone shifting to one of ice: "However, what are we staying _here_ for? It's a waste of time."

Michael's smirk returned, he had expected something like that. "Oh? Don't like the atmosphere do you?"

"Afterlife is filthy." Miranda grumbled, then scoffed as Michael pulled up the new glass to have a sip. _Huh, at least it's a bit stronger then the first one, gives a good buzz_... "And are you _set_ on drinking your weight in that piss?"

Michael sighed, his smirk dying as he eyed the drink. "Why not?"

The pounding of the music, the stench of the club, the buzz of the alcohol in his veins...it couldn't rid him of the thought.

_She hates me_...

"We didn't bring you back to sit there crying into your drink." Miranda retorted, a hint of frustration in her icy tone.

"Heh." Michael nearly chuckled at that, it reminded him of _Ashley_...

_Another failure_...

A small shrug, and he mirthlessly added: "Just clone me another liver if this one fails."

"Ha!" Jacob chuckled. "Though really Commander, enough is enough." A hand appeared on Michael's shoulder, squeezing it.

Memory after memory, people attacking, Michael spinning and disabling the hand on his shoulder, other memories of those laid on him to support...and him shaking under the grip...

And then...him injured, Chakwas finding out and revealing his drug addiction...Ashley berating him...and Chakwas treating it...

_Not going to happen, not again_...

He nodded, putting the glass down, eyeing it with longing...before he pushed it backwards.

_She hates me_...

The thought hounded him...but Michael pushed it aside as Miranda spoke: "Given what Aria told us I'd suggest we go to the quarantined zone and find Mordin Solus, he's vital to our mission if we're to counter the Collectors seeker swarms, not to mention anything else they might throw at us."

Michael nodded...only to say: "Fair reasoning, but no, we're going for Archangel."

"What? Why?" The woman asked, a hint of irritation in her voice.

Michael still didn't turn, enjoying frustrating her. _Have to have some enjoyment since_..._she hates me_...his smile didn't quite reach his eyes: "First; Mordin has survived for _weeks_ in an area rife with a highly contagious disease, even cured people of it, he's endured in his clinic against both this sickness and the blue suns and Vorcha fighting, I'm sure he can keep it up for a while longer."

_She hates me_...

A small shrug, his mind trundling on with strategy, unstoppable despite his weariness: "Second; Archangel was ambushed and lost his team in a brutal attack from _every_ major gang in _Omega_, since then he's done a fighting withdrawal down an entire _spire_ of the station...only now he's _stuck_ with nowhere to go as the gangs make for one final push with these freelancers. He needs help far more then Mordin, that is, unless you think we can recruit a corpse." He smirked at his final words. _Another_ _corpse_ _that_ _is_...

"But _Mordin_ is..."

"Third; _I'm_ in command here, _not_ you." The words lacked the edge he'd wanted to give them, the sentence slightly slurred, but it was good enough, it shut Miranda up.

Silence, a silence for thoughts...

_She__ hates __me_...

"Good." The third voice was hoarser than Jacob's, one worn down from shouting... "Sounds like a job that'll lead to a lot of dead mercs, I like that idea."

Michael managed a tiny smile at that. Zaeed Massani didn't seem like that much of a complicated man, then again, so would most say of himself at first glance. Still, there was something about that grizzled old veteran...maybe it was the fact that he reminded Michael of his old drill instructors, or maybe it was because he was up front with his motivation for helping them, credits...either way Michael judged the man to be solid and dependable, one that would mind his own business and nothing else.

Finally Michael swivelled the stool around, turning to face the group, eyeing the mercenary.

Zaeed stood to Miranda's right and a little away from the two Cerberus operatives, his yellow armour dented and chipped from wear and impacts, yet intact as he stood tall and strong in it. The fact that the Illusive man had picked him up as fitting into Michael's team spoke well of the man's abilities, the fact that he'd survived as a freelancing mercenary on a gang-ridden station like Omega even more so.

An old grey wolf still having a good bite left in him.

His grey hair was cropped back and thinning, his left eye a dark blue while his right was a mottled grey, surrounded as it was a scar circling round his one eyebrow and down to his nose, nearly forming a sort of hook. Whatever impact had done _that_ it was a wonder he was _alive_...

Michael calmly looked into that ruined eye though, he understood Jacob's little mutter about Zaeed looking 'like a scary son of a bitch'...but Michael had seen oblivion and wasn't about to be put off by a ruined face. "Why is that? Thought you didn't care who you killed as long as you were paid?"

The man shrugged, not giving anything away: "Mercenaries like those gangs are filthy creatures, no honour in them, getting paid is one thing, getting paid doing something you like another."

"Fair enough." Michael shrugged, not wanting to pry, if Zaeed wanted to stay secretive about such things it was his choice...and he would have to live with it._ Looks like he can handle that though_. Michael snorted. "Just don't start shooting unless I say so."

"I'm not an idiot." Zaeed calmly retorted, shrugging. "If I were I wouldn't be alive."

A small chuckle escaped Michael at that as he slid off the stool, the floor beneath wobbling a little... "That makes _one_ of us then I suppose..." _No air_, _burning_..._dying_...

He shrugged it off.

But he _couldn't_ shrug his other thought aside.

_She hates me_...

Whatever amusement he'd felt seeped out, _drawn_ from him like blood out of his veins.

_She_ _hates_ _me_...

Miranda was about to say something...only for her words to die out at the sight of his face.

Michael ignored her, gaze focusing on the recruiter over on the other side of the Afterlife club, his way to Archangel.

His order was a weary sigh: "Let's go."

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_Thanks to Abydos Jackson for still putting up with me._


	10. Chapter 10

"Welcome to the last moments of your sorry lives!"

The Batarian sergeant was pressing his back against the wall to the left of the large doorway that had been blocked up by a chest-high wall of old machinery and metal boxes. In his Blue Suns armour and his back straight he looked every bit a professional compared to the small horde of random guns the gangs had hired to throw at Archangel's defences, all of which were now pressing up against the low wall, crouching low to evade the accurate sniper on the other side of the bridge...

"That is, unless you're smart enough to stay in _cover_! We want Archangel _distracted_! A corpse _won't_ distract him!"

_Great, combat one-oh-one just before the charge_..._expendables listen up_. Michael almost rolled his eyes, but instead kept his eyes on the parapet of the wall as he and his team at the far end of the wall waited for the order to charge.

He was worried.

Not so much about dying, though it _was_ a funny thought to get killed by the man one was trying to _save_ and recruit. No, the worry was rather how Michael was supposed to get _over_ the bridge, for all Archangel knew Michael was another hired gun, and therefore one to be killed

Of course, for all his legendary accuracy...the man had actually _failed_ to shoot Michael a while back.

That was puzzling, making Michael's frown deepen. He had, to show he was just another freelance to the gangs, done one of the runs across the open space back in the gang's base, firing his weapon like another madman as he did his best to draw Archangel's attention from the counter-snipers the gangs had placed out to try and nail the resistant Turian.

It had been an acceptable risk, Archangel usually caught at least _one_ of the runners, and Michael was with a whole _dozen_ as they criss-crossed the open space...

Only...for once...there hadn't been a shot, not one of those running over the open space had twitched and fallen, nor any of the counter snipers...the Turian on the other end had held his fire.

_Proof that he's indeed slowing down from that injury or_...?

It didn't make sense.

Though that brought him to another of his worries, according to one of the snipers the gangs had put out he'd gotten a _shot_ at the Turian...a _proper_ hit. Though apparently it hadn't slowed the man down...it was of some concern if he was indeed injured...it would make getting him out all the more difficult.

_Maybe we should cut our losses and leave_?

Michael considered it...but shook his head. _No, we're committed now, no turning back now_.

But that made the whole getting out all the more difficult. He'd _seen_ the numbers of the gangs, their joint firepower...if they wanted to they could all rush over the bridge and kill Archangel. The _only_ reason they hadn't done so yet was that nagging _fear_ that he had something still saved up for such an event...not to mention the fear of each person not wishing to be the one shot as they crossed said bridge.

So they sent freelancers down instead, hoping to tire out the now cornered Turian as they continued digging their tunnels under his final base.

It was only a matter of time now.

Michael had to give Archangel credit though, pissing off every mercenary gang in Omega was impressive, and surviving against them for so long even more so. That even when they had finally caught him and his team he had managed a fighting withdrawal for a full _week _through a maze of corridors. It was so impressive Michael was unsure _he_ could have managed it. _It's all about motivation I suppose_...

Clearly Archangel _really_ hated the gangs.

Still, it couldn't last, Archangel was tiring, whatever little sleep he'd gotten during his retreat wouldn't be enough now that he was cornered, wounded and harried...

The Batarian sergeant's grin confirmed it as he said: "But you're lucky ladies, he's slowing down now, making mistakes, so if you keep moving and stay in cover he won't get you...well..._all_ of you." A small chortle. "He's run out of those proximity mines your clumsy predecessors kept stumbling over, and his automatic turrets are all fried...it's just him now."

All along the line the other freelancers crouched in readiness, staring at the wall before them, tense, pale and frightened...the Batarian's words not helping much. Michael shot a look to the right, at those of his own team.

Jacob was the one closest to him, shotgun at the ready, breathing deep breaths...but calmly, he knew as well as Michael that it was a suicidal thing to jump over the wall like they were about to...or at least a high risk. But he was ex-Alliance...and that discipline was efficiently clamping down on any fear he might feel, it was accepted...and pushed to the side.

Zaeed was the one next in line...and looked almost bored as he eyed the parapet of their wall, his worn Avenger assault rifle held at the ready. There had been no incidents with the mercenaries he so despised...in fact he had been mostly quiet save the odd note of admiration for Archangel's abilities.

Miranda was the last one in the line, the woman looking as tense, though not as frightened, as the freelancers. Whatever fear she felt was held back, not by discipline like that of Jacob or the experience Zaeed had...but simply by force of will. _Have to give her credit for backbone_... She shot him a look, snorted at whatever she saw and tensed as she held her sub-machine-gun at the ready, now demonstratively ignoring him.

_Heh_.

He smirked at that, just a little...then turned his attention back to the _still_ babbling Batarian.

"Don't think it'll make things easy on you though, this guy could toss a _paper-clip_ out and it would put the eyes out of _two_ of you. He has his sniping perch...and I've _yet_ to see him get anything but headshots on those trying to reach his base."

_At least it'll be painless_. Michael noted with a shrug even as one of the women – pale as a ghost – on the line of freelancers took a step back...

Only to fall with a thump as Archangel caught a bead on her forehead, her brain splashing over the floor as her body twitched with its sudden death.

Someone whimpered.

The sergeant only shook his head though: "As I was _saying_...don't think it'll be easy. Now, some of you have been issued grenades, some red and some green." Michael weighed the explosive grenade in his hand, curious. "The green ones are _explosive_ grenades, the red _inferno_ grenades, we're to use them to clear a path for your assault since the _last_ one failed more or less on the _starting_ _line_."

Jacob's voice was lower, a worried whisper aimed at Michael: "So what's the plan? Jump the wall and _hope_ we don't get killed?"

The Batarian kept his shouting up: "Now for those _morons_ who don't know how to do it, to activate the grenade you press the button on top, hold it down and then toss it _over_ the wall! I don't want a repeat of _last_ time! We don't pay you to die by your own fumbling!"

_Okay, so apparently we're all morons_..._well that'll make my own plan easier_. Michael tilted his head towards the others: "We'll jump the wall and then show our true colours on these other freelancers, if Archangel sees us helping him he won't shoot us."

That wasn't entirely true. Archangel could, for all Michael knew, suspect a trap or a trick and shoot them down anyway, he might perhaps be running on auto-pilot by now, simply shooting anything in sight. Or maybe he'd even shoot one of them _before_ they got a chance to show their intent...

Though Michael couldn't say that of course.

"Those with green ones...throw!" Michael moved automatically at the command, throwing the activated explosive over the wall even as some of the freelances to his left moved with an awkwardness that indeed _did_ make the thought of one failing to throw it over the wall a possibility in Michael's mind.

All arched over the wall though...and then there was a muted explosion, the dark ceiling high above the parapet suddenly obscured by a mist of blood and gore as the grenades blew apart the corpses on the other end.

A man down the line doubled over...and threw up.

_Great, they've been recruiting people desperate for money but without a single hour of training or real battle experience_... Michael wasn't surprised, Omega _reeked_ of desperation, and _cruelty_ making use of such desperation.

He could understand Archangel's hatred.

_At least killing them will be easy_... He almost sighed at the thought, he felt _weary_...he _did_. What would all the killing gain at the end? Almost everyone still ignored the Reapers...they lived ignorant lives where they at least had some happiness...until Michael arrived and tore it all down...was he really _helping_?

_I miss you T_-

_She hates me_...

He sighed, tired.

"Red ones!" The grenades arched overhead...and suddenly the strong scent of scorched flesh slapped Michael in the face as the remains of the corpses of the last wave were burnt away.

Another of the freelancers doubled over to throw up.

Then the call came...and Michael felt relief as he was forced to focus from his inner turmoil. "Go! Go! Go!"

All along the line freelancers reluctantly moved, some hesitating, others practically crawling up the wall, still others leaping over in an attempt to be the first to reach cover.

Michael chose to drag his heels, smirking at the way the Batarian looked at him with surprise, having expected him and his team to be more professional considering their superior gear.

Then the world spun as Michael vaulted the wall, the rest of his team dropping down to his right.

Before him the bridge was a scene of destruction, pieces of broken mechs lay strewn about, what might have been a gunship lay on the right side, twisted and mangled...and all over there were broken limbs covered in cracked armour, many too burnt to be recognised as anything but black rocks.

Further ahead the solid structure of Archangel's last hideout rose up above them, the man's armoured head briefly appearing...and easily dodging a hail of sniping shots from the gang's base as he fired off a shot of his own, making the head of a man to Michael's left explode before his feet even touched the floor.

_Right_... Michael eyed the other freelancers, wide-eyed men and women already running, some for cover, others toward Archangel's base, like panicking hens. ..._time_ _to_ _show_ _our_ _true_ _colours_.

"Now!" His assault rifle swung, drawing a bead on a dark-skinned woman taking cover behind one of the pillars on the edge of the bridge. The weapon jerked in Michael's hands...and the woman shrieked as the shots thumped into her breastplate, then _through_ it, making blood fly even as the impacts pushed her backwards..._into_ the railing of the bridge, _over_...and down into the darkness below.

Ahead a gasping Salarian turned mid-stride...only for Jacob's shotgun to pulverise his abdomen into chunks of green gore with a close ranged shot. A man next to the Salarian half-turned, saw what was happening and opened his mouth to shout a warning...only to gasp and drop to his knees as a dark blue energy surrounded his shuddering form...

A moment later Miranda stood before him, coolly placing her gun against his head and pulling the trigger.

Most didn't seem aware of the betrayal though, the majority of the freelancers blindly rushing forward as they showered the balcony above with shots, shots Archangel ignored as he ended life after life with the thumps of his sniper rifle.

The freelancers were many though, and some were soon to reach under the balcony and Archangel's base...

Michael and Zaeed moved as one, both rushing forth, assault rifles pouring shots into the crowd ahead, causing as much chaos as they did death as people floundered and fell, some still trying to push forward, others turning towards the new menace.

"Get over here!" Jacob's shout was punctuated by one of the men in the middle of the crowd being lifted into the air in a field of blue biotics...only to explode into gory pieces that sent the others stumbling as a snarling Miranda stalked forth, her body aglow with her own biotics.

Above Archangel aimed out...and fired a shot over Michael's head and towards the barricades, ending the life of someone beyond it. _Good, he might be believing our good intent then_...

Michael's analysis was a distant thing however as he closed the distance on the broken and now panicked crowd of freelances.

The butt of his assault rifle swung...and the closest mercenary fell with a crack as his jaw and neck snapped with the force of the exoskeleton-enhanced swing. The next man in line tried to reach for the gun he'd dropped in his panic...only for Michael to put his foot down on it as he poured shots into the head of the man, turning it into a broken mess of shattered armour, bones and brains.

Next to him Zaeed jabbed his assault rifle into the gut of a grunting woman, then swung the butt of it up, sending her hurtling backwards with a crack...into two others...before pouring rounds into the three stumbling enemies.

Then Jacob and Miranda were with them, the four forming a line that resembled an execution squad as they tore apart the stumbling and screaming freelancers, turning panicked foes into bleeding sacks of flesh as they tumbled and fell...forming a pile of broken corpses.

And then it was over.

Guns going silent, fresh heat sinks sliding into place with calm clicks, the odd gasp for fresh air after their run...

And then Michael moved on, Miranda half a step behind him as the other two formed a rearguard.

_So far so good_...

Calmly eyeing the surroundings of the lower floor of Archangel's base Michael wasn't much surprised by the spartan furniture that mostly seemed to be for rudimentary comfort of couches and a bunch of empty bookshelves that probably were used to store weapons for a team Archangel no longer had.

Here and there a corpse lay, bodies scorched from explosions or lying in puddles of their own blood. The remains of those that had actually managed to get past the bridge...

Michael ignored it, moving towards the stairs at the far end of the room, head craning to casually look for a rifle aiming down at them...but finding nothing.

Above there was a corridor to the right, leading to the second floor and Archangel's corridor...Michael took it, ignoring Miranda's ready gun as he kept his own lowered, trusting his gut that there was no danger as he moved towards the door...and not all too surprised to find it unlocking and opening before him.

_Interesting_...

The new room wasn't as spars as the others, but clearly meant to be used. The far end was lined with sleeping bunks and lockers. The end Michael had come through sported three couches and a few boxes placed not only so that a group of people could sit down and talk to one another with whatever planning they had to do, but also to form a defensive circle within the room, an extra defence if needed.

Archangel was crouching down by the balcony, the man's rifle moving back and forth as he checked the bridge, not acknowledging the new arrivals as they entered.

Michael arched an eyebrow in surprise. He'd _expected_ a Turian, but he hadn't expected a Turian wearing the distinguished blue and black armour of Citadel security! "Archangel?" Michael spoke, not taking his eyes of the Turian as he absently reached up and pushed Miranda's weapon down. "We're not here to fight you."

Silence.

Then the Turian wearily moved to stand, leaving his rifle leaning against the bannister of the balcony as he slowly turned...making those at Michael's back gasp even as he himself grimaced. He'd heard that the gang sniper had gotten a hit...and now it was confirmed.

The hole had been punched through not only the neck-guard of the armour, but also made a sizeable dark hole in the lower right corner of his helmet, the jagged edges stained with blue blood.

It looked bad.

Finally the Turian spoke, the voice distorted and pained in the broken helmet, yet..._familiar_: "I know you're not Michael..." _Huh_? _How_ _does_ _he_...? A slow shake of the Turian's head, the man taking a slow step forward, hand reaching out and grabbing the backrest of the closest couch. "I saw you through my scope, yet I couldn't really believe...it _is_ you...isn't it? I thought you died..."

"Dying is for quitters..." Michael answered, suddenly feeling..._tense_, as he warily watched Archangel reach up for his helmet.

"Heh, it's you all right." A click...and the helmet slid upwards, a flow of blue blood running from the new opening as the helmet was released from the rest of the armour and taken off.

Michael blinked.

Stared.

Blinked again.

And felt something touch him, something strong, invigorating, _powerful_.

_Joy_.

"Garrus!" Michael took a step forward, his face alight with a grin.

The Turian's right mandible was listing downwards, the muscles it was supposed to attach to torn by the sniping round as blue blood trickled down the injury running from his mouth and all the way up to his head fringe, torn muscles and bones sticking out from broken faceplates.

He was smiling though, a weary smile that turned lopsided as only the left side of his face responded, his voice was one of tired relief though: "Michael...it's good to see you."

"Garrus...!" Michael repeated, taking another step back as his joy was tinged with pained worry, seeing the way Garrus leant on the couch as blood continued to trickle from the horrifying wound, the way his eyes were half-closed with exhaustion...

"That's my name." The Turian gasped, smirking as best he could at Michael. "Though Archangel has a nice ring to it..." His grip on the couch slipped, the Turian stumbling...

"Garrus!" Michael leapt forth, grabbing the other man by the shoulders as the Turian nearly slumped to the floor. "Garrus!"

"I...I'm okay..." A cough, tinged blue by blood as the Turian righted himself, the hand landing on Michael's shoulder gripping tightly showing he was anything _but_. "Just a little dizzy..." A small chuckle. "...not smart to get up so sudden, makes your head spin..."

"Garrus..." Michael shook his head, sudden panic gripping his heart as he held onto his friend's breastplate, carefully leading the Turian to sit down on the couch, only barely aware Zaeed and Jacob were moving to guard for more attacks as Miranda crouched down next to him. Despite the panic Michael found himself chuckling, desperate to ease the panic: "...you look like shit."

A ragged chuckle escaped the Turian, his head dropping as he shook it in amusement: "A human shouldn't talk to a Turian about..." A cough. "...looks...you're all...ugly to me."

_Humour intact, he'll be okay_. Michael grinned in desperate relief as he saw more blue blood trickle down, covering Garrus' breastplate now that his helmet had been removed. _He'll be __okay_... "Now is not the time to insult the rescuers, you moron." Michael's grin felt a bit manic as he shook his head, ignoring the puzzled look Miranda was giving him: "How the _hell_ did you get into this mess! Weren't you supposed to be a _Spectre_ by now!"

"Looong story..." Garrus sighed, shoulders slumping, his weariness palpable. "Sorry Michael...not really...the place. I..." Another cough, his face turning to glance up at Michael, the grey eyes full of weariness and pain: "...I'm not feeling so hot...maybe after my rest...yeah..." His head began to list...

_No_!

"You don't have _time_ to rest!" Michael shook the Turian, _hard_, drawing a pained gasp from Garrus as he looked back at Michael with a jolt of awareness. "Dammit Garrus! I..." Michael shook his head, breathing hard and fast. "We have to get you out of here!"

"Sure, get an ambulance." Half of Garrus' face smirked at him. "I'm sure the gangs will let it through..."

"Shepard, we need to get him out of here, and _soon_, or this trip will be for nothing." Miranda noted, her voice distant to Michael as her glowing omni-tool moved over Garrus' injury.

Michael felt..._panicked_.

Eyes darting left and right, fingers gripping tight onto Garrus' armour as he tried to _think_...only to find _panic_ overruling it _all_...

_No_...

_Not_ _you_..._not_ _you too_..._I_ _can't_...

_Please_ _don't_...

"Michael, we need to get him out, one way or another." Miranda growled even as Garrus shot her a puzzled look.

"Cerberus...?" The Turian mumbled, more blood pouring from his face as his mouth moved...a face he turned to Michael in question, tone painfully weak: "...why are you with Cerberus...? They're...rats..."

"Charming." Miranda noted coldly...even as Michael blinked.

_Rats_..._tunnels_... He tilted his head, _remembering_.

_Hope_...

"They've almost tunnelled through! They said it!" He nearly shouted the words, feeling his lungs fill as his heart thumped with fresh hope. "And we'll _let_ them! We hold this position, then jump them when they come through the tunnels and fight our way through them to escape! Their numbers won't help there!"

A weary nod from Garrus: "Whatever you say...you're...the Commander here..." A broken smile. "...like it should be..." He managed to glance up at Michael, there was no hope in the weary eyes of the Turian, only the will to hold on, to _fight_. "I have the maps on my omni-tool...it's doable...Commander..." Again his head began to drop...

"Garrus..." Michael gripped the intact side of the Turian's face, forcing it up to look at him as he glared at Garrus, _commanding_. "We _will_ get you out of here, and you _will_ survive, _got_ it!"

Silence.

Then the Turian nodded, a damaged grin appearing on his face. "Defying death again heh...?"

Michael's right hand moved down, gripping Garrus' forearm tightly...and feeling the Turian weakly grip his back as he forced himself to smile.

"For you? Any day."

8

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_Thanks to Abydos Jackson for her much needed assistance._


	11. Chapter 11

His head was buzzing.

It had been buzzing for a _long_ time, but by now it had gotten so loud that the intense fire fight ahead sounded oddly...distant...or as if occurring under water.

_That can't be good_...

Garrus held back the smile, the agony shooting through his skull by the mere _twitch_ of his facial muscles blinding him with white light for a moment.

It lingered, longer this time.

_Nor_ _that_...

The plan had so far gone off without a hitch, then again, it was _Michael's_ plan, and he never failed. He wasn't like _Garrus_...

_I failed them_...

At least there was a bright side to the buzzing, it made his thoughts...difficult to grasp. The guilt, the pain, the exhaustion...it was all a distant thing to a dazed mind whose tiny remains of focus was being spent on gripping tight onto the shoulder of the Cerberus woman supporting him and dragging one foot after the next.

They had held the mercenaries off...just long enough for the tunnelling teams Michael had gotten Intel about to finally breach the lower levels of Garrus' team's final retreat.

Those foolish Vorcha had tried to flood in through the doors, to take the defenders by surprise and overwhelm them...only to run straight into a murderous cross-fire that had sent the tunnelling teams running...those few that had survived.

Michael had wasted no time – as Garrus had known, he'd tried so hard to emulate him after all, never quite reaching that distant star – and ordered them to press the attack. The group had moved in after the retreating Vorcha and torn apart all resistance as they moved through tunnels Garrus now was struggling to remember the blue-prints of as his head swam with dizziness.

So far it was going well though. "Next..." _Agony_. His skull full of bright light as he spoke. "...right."

Ahead, Michael nodded in acknowledgement, even as he put a round of shots into the head of yet _another_ charging Vorcha, the thing twisting mid-stride and collapsing in the middle of the long corridor as the more rational humans and Batarians further back dove for cover.

Garrus _still_ couldn't quite believe it was Michael. He'd been at the funeral of the hero after all. Said his goodbye to the closed casket containing nothing but what little worldly remains the man had actually owned...and swallowed down his bitterness as he forced himself to look forward, to prepare to become a Spectre and take up the fight with the Reapers, as Michael would have wanted.

Though that bitterness hadn't quite gone away, and had only gotten worse during the funeral, so fancy, so full of important people, so _wrong_... His mind managed a hazy flicker of those that had _mattered_ being there...and remembered nothing but _more_ bitterness there. It had _not_ been a good goodbye for their friend...

And _after_ the funeral, after all had hailed him and paid their respect...that horrible propaganda, that changing of _facts_, that clamping down of the Spectre program, that _massacre_ of _everything_ Michael had done...

It had been too much.

Despite his failure, despite the good men now laying dead at the hands of scum, despite him not having made much difference in Omega...Garrus couldn't quite find it in him to regret his decision.

Not that he really could _feel_ regret, it was all so..._hazy_.

Yet Michael _was_ back...there was no question of it, the man ahead was moving with an enviable precision between covers and putting round after accurate round into the bullies thinking themselves mercenaries ahead.

Garrus was sure there was a story to it all, something that normally would leave him shocked and confused. _Now_ however...now he could only tiredly acknowledge facts, if even _that_. He had almost shot the man when he'd seen him in his scope, Garrus' fighting at the end had been something automatic after all...yet he had had enough self-control to _hold_...and feel that ache and pain of his week of fighting wash over him like a tidal wave.

He _wasn't_ surprised Michael was leading a team though – as much as Garrus _could_ feel by now – it was natural for the man, even one arisen from the grave such as he...though it was a strange group he'd assembled.

The yellow armoured man was an old human, or so his grey hair told Garrus. He was also obviously a mercenary – Garrus could by now recognise one miles away – and quite a good one since he'd survived to an old age.

If the man thought it even a little ironic to be shooting other mercenaries to protect the merc-_killer_ he didn't show it as he with a blast of his worn-looking assault rifle gutted a Blue Sun Batarian coming too far out of cover.

The other man was a bit stranger. Dark skinned and built as heavily as Michael – if shorter in stature – the man was calmly moving right behind Michael and the mercenary, his shotgun time and time again barking at foes moving too close or his body coming aglow, sending people hurtling out of cover with blasts of his biotic power. Though the strange thing was his black jumpsuit sporting the _Cerberus_ logo...given the amount of Cerberus operatives Michael and he had _killed_ during their hunt for Saren Garrus couldn't quite _understand_ it.

Then again, it was getting difficult to..._think_...

He stumbled, drawing a hiss of anger from the woman holding his arm secured over her shoulders while her other arm wrapped itself around his waist, keeping him somewhat steady despite his obviously far greater weight and height.

_Strong little lady_...

While the man looked more like an alliance soldier in the way he acted and kept the covering fire up during the group's advance the woman somehow _radiated_ Cerberus...the 'uniform' didn't even seem necessary. _What's_ _with_..._human_ _women_ _and_..._tight_ _clothes_...? _Stupid_..._fashion_..._at_ _least_ _Asari_..._are_..._attractive_...

He swayed again, drawing a grunt and a glare from the woman even as someone ahead cried out in agony. _Why_..._am_ _I_..._thinking_ _of_..._clothes_? Garrus frowned in puzzlement, sending a searing lance of pain through his torn face that left dark spots dancing over his vision.

His head was listing, half-closed eyes taking in the woman gripping onto him, struggling with his weight yet somehow keeping things going...and clearly resenting the whole thing. Blue blood had stained her left shoulder as he continued to bleed on her, some having worked its way over her – given her uniform – modest cleavage.

She was clearly hating it, her face contorting in disgust, nose wrinkling...reminding Garrus that he probably didn't _smell_ all that great either after a week of constant fighting, running through tunnels of sewage and general filth.

_Poor Cerberus_..._bitch_..._having_ _to_ _carry_..._a_..._Turian_ _around_...

Garrus would have smirked, but couldn't, his face contorting with an agonising spasm as he coughed, blood dribbling out from his mouth and onto the floor.

_More_..._bad_..._news_? Another cough, blood spraying over his dented breastplate.

"Hang in there, Garrus!" Michael shouted over the _screaming_ buzz in Garrus' head, the _order_ somehow sending a jolt of energy through him, making his feet just a bit steadier, his breathing easier, sending the buzz in retreat, if only a little.

_That's how good a Commander_..._should_ _be_.

He looked up.

The corridor was as it always looked, filthy, downtrodden and supported by worn down pillars along the walls, making for good cover even as one wondered if too much damage to said pillars would make the entire complex of tunnels come apart.

Ahead, Michael and the mercenary were advancing diagonally to the supporting pillars of the filthy tunnel, their paths crossing as they kept up a fusillade of shots down the hall, making several mercenaries duck into cover...only to cry out as the black man came alight with biotic energy...and sent several enemies flying forth...

Michael and the mercenary turned from their new cover...and fired a hail of shots into the helpless enemies, turning the flying mercenaries into flying corpses surrounded by gobs of biotically lifted drops of blood.

And then there was a roar, a bloodthirsty, deep, reverberating..._familiar_...roar.

_The good news_..._keep_..._coming_. Garrus narrowed his aching eyes...and watched as the lazily drifting corpses were suddenly flung aside like broken dolls as something large – and _angry_ – crashed forth.

_Garm_...Garrus' eyes narrowed further, the hand gripping onto the woman's shoulder tightening in anger at the sight of the Krogan brute. Below, the woman glanced up at him, making him realise he had spoken the name aloud as he glared at the monster bore down on them.

Michael and the mercenary both leaned out of cover, rapid firing rounds thumping into a purple barrier of the charging monster, the addition of the blaze across the barrier made by the black human's shotgun not doing the _least_ to slow the charge.

Garm came in full throttle...his dark red armour a massive blur as he rushed at a Michael standing his ground, assault rifle peppering the Krogan...only to be smashed aside as Garm's shoulder crashed into Michael, drawing a pained gasp as the human was sent hurtling through the air and into the pillar behind.

_Don't_..._die_..._please_... Even Garrus' _panic_ seemed distant as he watched Michael struggle to get to his feet...

Garm was nowhere near done though as he swung the flame-thrower in his claws towards the mercenary...who with a curse ducked under the spray of fire, rolled away from a kick and stumbled sideways, wildly firing into the fading barrier of the Krogan.

A Krogan inexorably moving his weapon towards who he _really_ wanted...

His left hand shot out, pointing a wicked claw at Garrus as his large face split into a raging roar: "You're mine Archangel! I'll rip you to shreds and feed you to the Varren!"

Garrus barred his fangs in reply, numb left arm moving down to his pistol even as the woman supporting him moved to drop him, body aglow with charging biotic power...

Then the black man was there, the human surprisingly fast as he bashed the flamer – now only held in one hand – aside before levelling his shotgun at the chest of the Krogan.

A thunderous blast...

And the Krogan grunted with pain...before his free hand swept round and gripped onto the human's head, drawing a gasp from the man as the claws began to close...

Garm grinned, not taking his eyes from Garrus as the human in his grip twitched, shotgun falling from hands now jerking up to try and pry of the closing vice of a grip away...

Then a sweeping right foot in black armour struck Garm's flame-thrower, sending it sideways, out of the Krogan's grip...and into Michael's hands as the man spun with the kick. His right foot stomped down on the floor as his left came down...onto the side of Garm's right knee.

It buckled.

Grunting Garm dropped onto one knee, the grip on the Cerberus man loosening...and the man leapt away with a gasp of relief that was nearly lost with Garm's growl of anger as he turned his baleful eyes to Michael...

His clawed hands lunged to grip and crush the human as he had so many before, mouth opened in a roar that was as much a lunge to bite and tear the man's head off as it was of rage...

A mouth suddenly finding itself biting down on the barrel of a flame-thrower.

There was a moment of wide-eyed realisation, the clawed hands reaching up to grasp the weapon...and then a muffled scream of pure _agony_ as Michael pulled the trigger, sending jets of superheated fuel right down the gullet of the monstrous Krogan.

Garm's scream grew louder as he jerked back...only for Michael to follow, jamming the weapon _deeper_ into the Krogan's mouth as he bowled the monster over, foot crashing down on the chest of the twitching Krogan as more and more fire spewed into the creature's insides.

Garrus grinned, the pain for a brief moment a distant thing as satisfaction warmed his own insides, remembering his own fight with the Krogan far too well. _Regenerate_..._that_...

Before him the Krogan twitched, jerked, shaking arms reaching up for the weapon in his mouth even as his eyes exploded into a gobbets of scorched blood, armour hissing and sizzling with heat as his skin crumpled like burnt paper...

And then...Garm...was no more.

Garrus nearly fell, knees weak as his world spun...but he smiled, watching as Michael jumped off the blackened Krogan in a suit of armour still sizzling armour.

_That's_..._my_..._buddy_.

Ahead the mercenaries in the tunnel, having taken massive casualties without barely having _scratched_ their foes, and now with their leader nothing but armoured ashes, routed. Men and women, humans, Batarians, Turians and Vorcha...all turning and running, only a few of them bothering to fire off some covering fire before rushing away from the onslaught.

Cowards, as Garrus knew they were.

"Pathetic." The mercenary growled, putting a round of shots into the back of a retreating Batarian before turning to the others, nodding towards the corridor: "We'd better get going though, once they've stopped pissing their armour they'll realise what their bosses will do to them if they're caught running."

Garrus nodded in agreement, feeling his brain rattle within his skull like as if it had turned to stone.

It hurt.

His voice didn't seem his own, a distant rattle: "Yeah...not far now...we'll loose them if we stick to the right..."

"Garrus...?" Michael's voice was tinged with concern...as was his face as he stepped up close, helping Garrus to straighten his head...and forcing the Turian to offer a pale smile.

"I'm...f-fine M..." He blinked, the name suddenly escaping him. "I'm...good..."

"We need to hurry, Shepard." The woman muttered, her voice distant despite her being so close.

Then there was a beep...a beep Garrus knew, a beep he'd _memorized_...and he bared his fangs in a growl, ignoring the pain as he lifted his left arm.

It didn't really feel..._attached_...it was more like a thing of rubber stuck to his shoulder then a limb...

"Wait...have to...d-do this..." Garrus lifted his right arm, too tired to feel any enjoyment over actually having feeling his other arm as he moved it over the woman's head and towards the glowing omni-tool.

"Garrus, this isn't really the time for...what is that?" Michael's voice asked, the corridor suddenly too dark for Garrus to make the man out. All Garrus could see...was the glowing hologram of his base, red dots filtering into it.

"They're moving in from the front." Another voice noted, Garrus was too disoriented to make out who. "Damn, if they push the pace they can get behind us, we'll be caught in a vice."

"Not...happening." Garrus hissed, head lazily listing left and right as he struggled to focus on the growing number of dots as they spread out, searching. _Forty_..._fifty_..._sixty_...

"Ummm..." The hesitant voice was so distant, a strange hiss in Garrus' ears.

_Seventy_..._eighty_..._ninety_..._hundred_...

Garrus growled, something in his face snapping with a crack...and flicked his hand over his omni-tool.

The ground shook, dust suddenly drizzling over him along with a loud rumble, the hologram on the omni-tool shortening out as the explosives went off...tearing, shredding..._annihilating_.

Garrus smile was tiny...but the glow in his withering insides warmed as the world turned grey...

"Got..."

"Garrus?"

He held onto that warm glow...as all else faded.

"...you..."

"Garrus!"

The world spun.

"...you..."

"Garrus!"

Darkness.

"...bastards."

"_GARRUS_!"

_Darkness_.

8

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_Thanks to Abydos Jackson for being such a fighter._


	12. Chapter 12

Light.

_Am_ _I_..._dead_?

Pain.

Eyes squeezing shut.

More pain.

_That would be a no_...

"Garrus?"

That voice..._familiar_...soothing, reliable, in a way..._home_.

He forced himself to open his eyes anew.

This time the light wasn't so glaring, the pain subsiding, instead he felt oddly...light, his body weightless and insubstantial. Above, Michael looked down at him, concern creasing that human face Garrus had learnt to read for what felt like a lifetime ago.

_Hello_. Garrus smiled...and the pain of his face was just a distant..._thing_... He tried to _actually_ speak...but his mouth seemed sluggish and all that came out was a gurgling sound that echoed in the plastic mask he only now realised he was wearing.

He tried to turn his head...and partly succeeded to get a brief glimpse of the room. Light-panels above, a few beds along the wall, Chakwas a few steps to his right, checking instruments as she shot him that doctorly frown he'd learnt to appreciate. It all seemed so..._familiar_.

_The_ _Normandy_? He frowned, confused. _Was_ _it_ _all_..._a_ _dream_? The moment he asked himself the question he knew it wasn't so, he'd left for Omega, he was a vigilante, not a Spectre, a Commander of a now dead team. A failure.

Michael seemed to see his confusion, and probably his cringe of pain, but he only addressed the former, no doubt thinking the other due to Garrus' injuries. "Yeah...sort of looks like the Normandy doesn't it?" He looked around the room, then back down at Garrus. "It's the second one though, a copy if you will. But hey, home is where the family is eh?" A smile, worried, but there.

_Home_...

Garrus closed his eyes, relaxing. It _did_ feel like home. In a way he'd never felt home, not back with the ever disappointed father, not on the citadel with C-sec...only on the Normandy had he ever felt like he...belonged. Sure, for a time he had felt like he'd found a home with his team on Omega...but in the end he'd failed to protect them...and his home had _burnt_.

_You're right_..._you're always right_. He opened his eyes, blinking away the sting in the corner of his eyes as he looked back up at Michael...a Michael hesitating.

For a moment the human glanced down at the bed Garrus was laying on, pondering his words, then he looked back up as a hand suddenly grasped Garrus' left forearm. "Losses are...difficult to handle for guys like you and I."

Garrus swallowed, looked away.

_I shouldn't have let them join_...

"We care too much, we know it's not fair that those _good_ ones should die."

_Shouldn't have trusted Sidonis_...

"Give it time...I...know it doesn't sound like it'll help, but it will..."

_Shouldn't have tried to emulate you_...

Garrus shuddered.

"Garrus...I...it's..."

_Don't_ _say_ _it_.

Garrus squeezed his eyes shut, the pain of his body was a distant thing...and couldn't distract him from the vice closing around his heart any longer.

"...don't blame yourself."

_Don't __say__ it_...

It hurt.

"I more than _anyone_ knows blaming yourself doesn't really work...it doesn't help, neither for you or anyone else...I don't think doing so is fair to those lost either." _Shut_ _up_..._please_... "You can't lie down and die... " _Please_! "...you have to move on and try to do those lost justice..."

Garrus' right arm – feeling strangely heavy – shot up, grasping the plastic mask over his face and pulling it down as he turned to look at Michael.

He wanted to shout at the man, glare...vent against the man whose supporting words were causing such pain.

All he managed though was a quivering smile, his voice rough from a sore throat: "It's okay Michael, no need to give me the speech."

"If..." Michael hesitated, giving Garrus' a concerned look. "...you say so." He shook his head, glancing down Garrus' bed as an awkward smile appeared on his lips. "Huh, first time I've seen a naked Turian."

_What_!

Garrus tried to sit up, only to fail miserably even _before_ Michael put a hand on his chest and pressed down, chuckling at him. "Relax, just from the waist up, Chakwas had no need to play around with your ding-dong."

Over by the computers there was an annoyed scoff from the doctor even as Garrus glared daggers at Michael and his chuckling face: "I fail to see how that's funny..."

"I admit, it's funnier from this end." Michael smirked at him even as he glanced sideways again. "Sooo...your _entire_ body is covered in scales then? I'm guessing you don't have to wear a cup then...heh."

Garrus shook his head as best he could lying down, smirking._ It's Michael all right_... "Why? Curious? Or are you proposing something?"

Michael spluttered, then laughed, the grip on Garrus' forearm tightening. "Well what do you know! Garrus has worked that stick out of his ass!"

"Still sounds like a proposal Michael..."

Michael's laugh turned into a chuckle, the man's grin wide as he looked down at Garrus...who found himself grinning back, as much in enjoyment as it was with the feeling of his face not burning up. "Maybe when you're in better shape...you look like you've gone ten rounds with Wrex."

_Rounds_ _of_..._what_? Garrus smiled, knowing human had all manner of strange expressions that he'd yet to understand, he didn't mind so much... "Let me guess? A scar?"

Michael tutted, shrugging: "Look on the bright side, now you look tough." A smirk. "Now if only you could _be_ tough too..."

"Just you wait, when I get out of this bed..." Garrus growled back, actually amused by the banter, the distraction from..._everything_.

Michael too seemed to feel the need for the distraction, his smile a bit too wide as he scoffed: "Yeah, as if Chakwas will let you go until she's satisfied." Another scoff from the doctor, angry. "Besides, you should be happy your mandible is still _attached_, you nearly did a Saren there..." The two shared a smile at that, softer, remembering the faithful battle on Virmire. _It was a good fight_... "Just...get better okay? I'm going to need you...if you choose to come along."

There was no question. "I'm fit for duty in no time, I've had worse injuries."

"No, you _haven't_." The stern voice was accompanied by an even sterner face of Chakwas as the doctor leant over Garrus, glaring down at him: "Do you _realise_ how close you were to dying?"

_I bet you'll tell me_... "No." Garrus smiled up at the doctor.

Who sighed, rolling her eyes at him, then at the smirking Michael. "Soldiers..." Her head turned back to glare at Garrus, irritated: "The injuries to your face were _substantial_, you're lucky it now has full functionality with so many muscles staying severed for so long." A frustrated shake of her head: "You had lost enough blood to _kill_ most Turians. You're suffering from severe malnourishment, dehydration and exhaustion, several internal organs were on the verge of a cellular breakdown when they brought you in. The fact that you haven't suffered permanent brain-damage is a _miracle_. _Don't_ tell me you've had _worse_!"

She huffed...as the two men stood still, staring at her.

Then Michael, a bit hesitant, spoke up: "Erm...doesn't he _require_ a brain to get it damaged?"

Chakwas groaned, taking a step back even as Garrus chuckled: "Ha! You're just envious you're not as tough as I am..." He tried to puff up his chest at that, but couldn't quite manage, body feeling too heavy to move properly. "...well...you get the idea."

Michael's smirk faded, the man nodding to Garrus with a glint of concern in his eyes, the grip on Garrus' forearm refusing to budge. "Yeah...I do." Then a small smile, a question in his face: "But...you'll come along? Just like that? I haven't even told you what we're doing. I thought you'd be more hesitant...with Cerberus and all." He waved a hand backwards.

Following the hand Garrus realised the two weren't, in fact, alone with Chakwas, two human women were waiting over by the door to the medical bay.

The first he recognised, the frosty-looking woman that had helped him underneath the tunnels. As he watched she tossed her hair back, a cold look in her eyes as she with an impatiently tapping foot stared at Michael with her arms crossed over her chest. She was clearly eager to get going. Garrus wasn't surprised, Michael _always_ had somewhere to go... In fact Garrus was almost surprised the man was around for when he woke up, then again the man cared for those under his charge...one thing Garrus had managed – unfortunately – to emulate.

The second was another woman, wearing a more modest uniform, it too marked with the Cerberus logo. Her red hair reminded Garrus of fire, the green eyes were soft though, focused solely on him, watching, sympathetic..._caring_.

He looked away.

"What else?" His voice sounded so...dejected, he didn't recognise it. "Can't really go back to Omega can I? No c-sec...no..." He shrugged, feeling that vice around his heart squeezing tighter with sudden panic as he realised that now that he wouldn't die he didn't...know what to do. He looked at Michael...and saw his only chance at going on, to _be_...his voice steadied: "I'm with you Michael, you never have to ask, I'm your man."

Garrus blinked, smiled, realising...he _meant_ it. It wasn't just desperation for a goal driving him to such a promise, it was...ingrained into him by now, a loyalty that now was alive in his _blood_. Michael called...and Garrus came.

Silence.

Then Michael nodded, a pale smile on his lips as he raised Garrus' arm, the grip on the forearm moving to close around Garrus' hand...which closed in turn as they gripped one another.

Michael's voice was hoarse with emotion: "Thank you."

Silence.

It was almost painful.

Garrus forced a smile: "Was there any doubt?"

A pained look appeared on Michael's face...and Garrus regretted his question, no doubt he had stepped on..._something_. Michael had been gone a long time after all...and not many had stayed loyal to him since his death. Though that look...there was something else there.

A glance at the others and Garrus knew it wasn't the place to ask though: "So...you really _did_ die?" _Still can't believe it_...

Another pained look, but less so then the first, appeared on Michael's face. The man nodded though, pushing the look aside in favour of a little smile. "Yeah, hurt like hell I can tell you. But as I said, dying is for quitters."

"True, can't have the Reapers escape that easily." Garrus retorted, feeling at ease for the first time in..._ages_.

He yawned.

Instantly Chakwas appeared, a stern frown aimed at Michael: "Really Commander, he's recovering, you've talked to him, now he really needs his rest...kindly get out of my medical bay."

"_Your_ medical bay?" Michael queried with an arched eyebrow...only to get a glare back that made him look down at Garrus with a smirk. "Good luck with her Garrus, I think age has made her even _more_ grouchy."

There was a small growl from the doctor at that, making Garrus roll his eyes: "Thanks, good that you piss her off before leaving me with her, and I thought we were _friends_..."

"I'm standing_ right here_." Chakwas grumbled, now impersonating the Cerberus woman as she began tapping her foot against the floor. "Now get going, Commander."

"Agreed." The Cerberus woman over by the door nodded, tone haughty as she shot Garrus a short glance before focusing on Michael. "Commander, we have a mission that cannot delay, I suggest we get going, now."

A dramatic sigh as he got to his feet...and Michael looked down at Garrus with an amused crook on his lips: "Never a dull moment eh?" The amusement faded, face turning serious, as did his tone: "I'll have to go out and find Mordin Solus...but I'll be back soon Garrus, I promise. I...there's lots I want to talk to you about."

_No_ _doubt_... "I'll be waiting then." Garrus nodded where he lay, feeling..._dizzy_. "Just..." A yawn. "...like old..." another yawn, his head turning, finding Chakwas withdraw a needle from his arm. "...times..."

Darkness took him.

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_As always, thanks to Abydos Jackson._


	13. Chapter 13

The quarantine zone _reeked_.

Miranda wrinkled her nose, _deeply_ regretting she hadn't brought her breathing-mask with her, she also wished she at least could put a hand over her nose, but she had too much discipline for that and kept both hands on her pistol as she moved it left and right, tracking for movement.

So far there had been nothing though...and the group was tense as they moved down yet _another _empty corridor.

Empty, save for the corpses.

This one sported two of them, a Batarian and a Turian, each in one end of the corridor. The Turian's blood-flecked claws still half-closed around his own throat, a long blue tongue lying limp on the floor where he lay...and the Batarian sitting against the wall, blood still running from four blackened eyes.

Michael stopped, as he had done several times already, his fist raised to halt the others as he went to one knee, listening.

There was, as always, nothing to hear.

Nothing but the dripping of filthy...smudge... Miranda could see it in the corners of this corridor, running from the edges where the ceiling and the walls connected, green..._filth_. _Everywhere_ in the Quarantine zone it was the same, and it apparently wasn't due to the plague, but rather the _normal_ state of Omega's slums. Miranda had been to Omega before...she wasn't surprised...yet she still found it in her to be disgusted.

Yet the stench of rotting and burnt bodies alike, of blood and death...it overpowered whatever stench the smudge brought, making Miranda gag.

_It's actually worse then that of Garrus_. The memory didn't help Miranda's disposition in the least. She didn't have all that much against Turians in general, but having them _bleed_ all over her was where she drew the line, and the _stench_ of the man...she had actually doubted _anyone_ was capable of reeking that badly.

Though the quarantine zone was proving her wrong.

_How can Mordin still be alive in all this_? She shook her head in amazement, as a human she wasn't affected by the plague...but to think the Salarian had survived in what was obviously something extremely potent, and for so long, was impressive.

"Bad sign." She glanced at Zaeed, the man gesturing at the two corpses in the corridor as he calmly explained: "These ones haven't been piled up and burnt as before, that means what little organization's left to do so isn't working any more. The Blue Suns have lost all control of this area." A grim smile appeared on his lips...only to quickly fade. "Which means the Vorcha are around. At least they haven't fed on these two."

_Fed_... Miranda grimaced, though not surprised such filthy aliens would pursue such a practice, even Batarians thought the Vorcha were little more then animals.

Ahead Jacob brushed past a rising Michael, the Cerberus man nudging the nearby Turian with his foot with a grimace. "This place _stinks_, how can _anyone_ still be alive in here?"

"Desperation." Zaeed muttered in answer, the mercenary shaking his head. "Believe me son, the strong don't survive things like this, it's the _desperate_ ones that do...and I doubt we want to meet them."

"Aria made the right call." Miranda noted, following as Michael silently moved down the corridor. "Could you imagine this plague spreading to the rest of Omega? The station would be turned into a graveyard." She grimaced as she stepped over legs over the dead Batarian, unable to help herself staring at those four mottled black eyes, the blood running from the edges looking like crimson tears_. _

_Though what a decision_..._closed in like this_..._these people are tearing each other apart in panic, unable to escape_...

She squashed the mote of sympathy, knowing it was nothing to dwell upon, the mission was all that mattered.

Ahead Michael turned the corner to the left, levelled assault rifle tracking left and right...before he gestured for the others to follow.

Another corridor...another three corpses, all three Batarians...riddled with shots along the right wall, executed, perhaps because they were showing symptoms of disease, perhaps for no real reason.

"She probably did..." Jacob noted, shaking his head at the three corpses as they moved towards the closed door ahead. "...but God, this stench is horrible."

"Smelled worse." Michael noted, the first time he'd spoken since they had left the Normandy.

Miranda arched an eyebrow in surprise. Michael had seemed to feel...better since Garrus' health had stabilized, even more so after their time-consuming conversation that Miranda still didn't understand why it couldn't wait to later...

Yet when they had left the Normandy to find Mordin Solus...some of that energy in Michael had faded away, and it had only gotten worse the further they had gone...

He seemed...distant..._thinking_.

_Distracted_... Miranda shook her head in irritation, being Michael's second in command was proving..._frustrating_._ If Garrus will keep him more energized and motivated it's good, but if these thoughts plaguing him occur every time he's pondering the past I'm unsure if having that Turian on the team is a good idea_.

Still, him speaking was a good sign...and Miranda was glad it was _Jacob_ who replied first, rather then she being forced to, since Michael didn't seem to much care for her...not that she much cared: "You've _actually_ smelled something worse then _this_? Krogan puke or something?"

Michael stopped, turning his head at Jacob, a small smirk on his face. "Krogan puke? That actually smells like curry..."

"I don't even want to know..." Jacob shook his head, smirking back as he leant his shotgun up against his shoulder. "...but what on Earth smells worse then _this_?"

"Try a Thorian." Michael retorted with a shrug and a knowing look.

"I read about it...you didn't much mention the smell." Jacob retorted. "Though...was it really _that_ bad?"

"Not at first." Michael chuckled, _weakly_, but it _was_ a chuckle. "But when you end up drenched in its insides the you find yourself rapidly re-evaluating what you consider a _bad_ smell." The chuckle was followed by a distant smile: "Decontamination didn't really help either, had to go through the cycle five times, and then three bouts in the shower."

Jacob grimaced. "Drenched in...you know what, I don't want to know how you managed that." Miranda gestured a warning, sensing what Jacob was about to say...but too late: "Bet your team kept their distance for a time huh?"

Michael's smile widened, the man nodding softly: "You're right about that, Tali even shut off her olfactory filters to..."

The smile faded.

_Dammit_ _Jacob_...

Miranda sighed in irritation.

And the black man bowed his head in apology: "Sorry, Commander."

"No...it's..." The Commander seemed to shudder in his armour for a moment, then squared his shoulders. "...never mind. Let's go."

Miranda couldn't see his face as he moved forward, stance tense, making Miranda shoot Jacob a glare as the three others followed their Commander...who opened the door.

In comparison to the quiet so far the sounds of battle suddenly striking them like a blow was deafening.

Ahead there was a large hall stretching out to the left and right. The right side sported a number of tipped over tables and benches from where a number Blue Suns were digging in, the left side on the other hand only had a few tall boxes of various size as cover, boxes the many Vorcha around were practically fighting each other to cover behind as shots filled the air between the two forces.

Even as Miranda stared in shock a Varren leapt over one of the nearest tables, the large reptile sinking its dagger-sized teeth into the neck of a Turian mercenary. The man shrieked as he was bowled over, his weapon slipping out of his hands as they shot up to push against the large reptile...only to limply fall to the floor as the Varren jerked its head sideways, drawing a sickening crack from the Turian's neck.

Then Michael was there, one heavy boot crashing down into the side of the Varren's neck, pinning it to the floor...before its head came apart as he poured a round of shots into it.

"Attack the Vorcha!" The man's command was almost lost in the storm of shots as he leapt into the fray, heedless of the heavy crossfire between the two camps charged to the right, leapt...and landed right next to a confused-looking Turian. Michael ignored the look though, rifle pushing up over the cover of his table as he sent shots flying towards the many Vorcha.

Miranda stared...and saw the Blue Suns exchange glances...before with a shrug they joined in to fight alongside their unexpected ally.

Then she too was moving, the entire _team_ responding...leaping over tables and benches, dropping down next to mercenaries of a gang they had so recently fougth and slaughtered so many of...and levelling their weapons at the horde of Vorcha spilling forth like a disease of their own.

It was ironic in a way – Miranda noted as she calmly put a bullet through the skull of a stumbling Vorcha – the only reason the Vorcha were doing so well was that they were immune to disease...yet they themselves struck her as a form of disease, an ugly, violent disease, locusts coming to ruin all _real_ people had created.

She snarled at the idea, a spike of anger shooting through her as she watched one of the ugly creatures come running, the flame-thrower in its hands levelled at them. Miranda put a round in its chest, making it stumble back, her second shot struck the crude tank strapped to its back, sending heated fuel pouring out. It straightened, the wound in its chest already healing...only to stumble back again when a third round struck it...sending into a cluster of others.

Before the exploding tank tore them all apart.

Further to her right Jacob was sending several Vorcha hurtling back with his biotics, the creatures becoming easy targets for the Blue Suns around him. Zaeed's mouth was moving with low curses, the butt of his rifle smashing into a nearby mercenary before he fired a volley into the gut of a charging Vorcha.

And Michael...the man didn't even seem bothered by the many shots aimed his way as he stood behind his cover, volley after volley from his assault rifle tearing into his foes one or two at a time even as his shield flared with multiple impacts.

Miranda added her shots to his, turning an entire flank of the enemy into a funnel of corpses as disciplined shot after shot and volley after volley took down their targets with near mechanical precision.

The fight didn't last long.

Soon the last gutted Vorcha dropped to the floor as new heat sinks were pushed into weapons, men and women straightened...the relief of victory and survival tinged with something else...

The man nearest Michael, a Batarian, turned to face the man, hand reaching out: "Thank you for the..." His four eyes narrowed. "...wait...I've seen your face on posters back at headquarters..." _Widened_. "Men! It's-!"

Michael's hands grabbed the man's head and jerked...and a loud crack greeted the movement as the Batarian's neck snapped. Michael's shout was loud over those of confusion from the remaining mercenaries: "Get them!"

Miranda spun, the heel of her boot flying high...and smashing straight into the visor of the Turian that behind her had started to raise his weapon. He crumpled to the floor even as Miranda's biotics grabbed him...and sent him flying into another Turian, both crashing into the wall with a crunch.

Jacob's shotgun barked twice, thrice...and then swung round to crash into the face of a fourth Blue Sun as the rest were almost casually gunned down by Zaeed's position in a corner, as if the mercenary had been _prepared_ for the betrayal...

_Good_ _instincts_.

Turning Miranda holstered her pistol, looking up at Michael: "That was easy, now what?"

The man shrugged in disinterest, the energy he'd had during the battle visibly fading from him: "Now we go and get this over with..."

Miranda shook her head at the man as he moved on, belatedly realising she should follow.

_I don't get you_...

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_Thanks to Abydos Jackson for still standing me._


	14. Chapter 14

The group burst into the room.

Zaeed moved up into the centre, kneeling behind a low wall containing several now withered plants, assault rifle tracking the multiple targets ahead.

Miranda moved to the right and Jacob to the left, the two taking position behind similar walls as they smoothly crouched down and took aim, Miranda surprised they had yet to be greeted by gunfire.

Then again, the foes ahead looked confident...

The environmental control room was large and dimly lit by orange light panels up in the high ceiling. Two catwalks flanked the rectangular chamber on each side of the group, both sporting low walls that no doubt hid various controls for a personnel that no longer lived...and now instead had several armed Vorcha standing behind them.

Whoever had designed the place had had an eye for aesthetics though, which was peculiar for Omega. First of all the main controls at the far end of the chamber had been built into a circular alcove whose edges sported – though worn down and mostly covered in filth by now - markings designed to illustrate leaves rustling in the wind.

Secondly, the many low walls around the central chamber were all meant to have flowers growing out of them, acting like long pots they were all filled with earth. Though now the plants were nothing but blackened and withered things.

Yes, whoever had designed the place had actually had some _class_...but as with all things in Omega things were slowly decaying...and the plague and Vorcha had done no favours to this particular area.

_At least the walls will make good cover_. Miranda noted, worried as she glanced around herself.

Several Vorcha lined the two catwalks on the team's flanks, a few even sporting rocket launchers, while nearly two dozen more stood in front of the team, guarding the controls with readied weapons and ample cover.

Miranda had seen better odds.

Not that she would back away though. No, Mordin had been _very_ insistent on curing the disease before leaving, despite her arguing...

Though of course _Michael_ had agreed to help, something distant in his eyes as he made his deal with the babbling professor.

Glancing back she watched, frowning in irritation as Michael slowly walked forth, relaxed and casual as if taking a stroll._ Arrogant son of a bitch_..._brave though_.

The man had gotten more and more tetchy the further they had progressed. Miranda had noted, several times he had glanced at the time with an annoyed frown...and then pushed the pace further. He had barely even stopped to talk to the professor's assistant after they had helped him. Michael's choice to let the Batarians go would be an interesting thing to note in Miranda's report though, he'd claimed something about choice...it had seemed an awfully _simple_ philosophy the way he had presented it, very black and white...Miranda was sure something like that could be of use to the Illusive man.

Still, that was difficult to think about currently with Michael having pushed the pace_ so _much...

By now Miranda was panting...and didn't feel all that ready for another fight.

_Probably wanting to get back to Garrus_..._is __this__ the strategic genius we revived_? Miranda nearly shook her head in disbelief at the thought even as Michael further proved his arrogance by taking a step forward, ignoring the many guns and rocket launchers tracking his movements as he eyed the foremost Vorcha with a stern look on his face.

His voice was an impatient growl. "Mordin suspects you work with the Collectors, is that true?"

"Gah!" The Vorcha exclaimed in its serpentine accent, spittle flying from its mouth: "You work for doctor!"

"I'll ask again." The man took another step forward, eyes narrowed. "Do you work with the Collectors?"

There was a threat there, it hung in the air as the many Vorcha around tensed, looking like snakes ready to strike.

_Filthy_ _creatures_.

"Doctor wants to stop plague!" The Vorcha exclaimed, as if it was a great insult, its clawed hand shooting out to point at Michael. "We'll kill you!"

Michael leant a little to the left...and suddenly his pistol was in his left hand, barrel smoking as the powerful shot took the Vorcha in the crotch.

A scream...and it collapsed as Michael leapt right over Zaeed, his mutter nearly lost in the storm of shots from the surviving Vorcha: "Bad choice..."

_Again with the choices_... Miranda made a mental note to bring it up as a point of debate with the Illusive man – it usually helped in making things clearer – and ducked under a missile that had been aimed at Michael before putting a round in the head of the offending Vorcha.

Then the world became a blur of flashing shots, explosions and screams, forcing Miranda to focus her mind on the battle at hand.

Michael had somehow dodged the veritable hail of the first enemy volley that had been concentrated on him and was now ducking under a low wall just ahead of Zaeed. He calmly moved to the left of the wall before lunging forth to put three shots into a charging Vorcha's leg, blowing the limb apart at the knee as the creature shrieked.

Jacob was aglow with biotic power, the man turning to the left as he pushed a hand out...only to close it into a fist and _pull_...and suddenly three Vorcha on the left catwalk hissed as they were pulled off the ledge and began to spin through the air.

Miranda focused on the right though, pinpointing two Vorcha lining up shots at the standing Cerberus officer.

Two shots.

Two kills.

One tumbled over the railing, falling onto the floor below with a wet thump of breaking bones, the other simply dropped down onto the catwalk, head cracked open by the heavy calibre shot.

"Burn you sons of bitches." Zaeed's growl was low...and the mercenary stayed under cover as four Vorcha ahead behind their own poured shots at his position...even as the grenade freed from his belt was activated and sent arching forth.

The inferno grenade exploded behind the Vorcha, three of them catching fire with shrieks of agony, the fourth trying to step away, only to get tangled up in the flailing limbs of the others.

Michael was not slow to take advantage, the man joining Zaeed in coming out of cover as they split to the left and right respectively, shots thumping into the flailing Vorcha and felling them.

As that was happening the Vorcha pulled into the air from Jacob's biotic display finally fell, crashing into the floor, none of them moving even as Jacob sent shot after shot at those remaining atop the leftmost catwalk, forcing them to stay in cover.

_I should exploit that_... Miranda felt her own biotics flare up...as she sent a pure bolt of force into one of the catwalk's pillars.

It wasn't enough to do any real damage, but it made the thing shake...and the Vorcha to tumble left and right, standing up as they tried to maintain their balance. Miranda and Jacob's pistols spoke in unison, fast paced shots thumping into the Vorcha, felling them like grass before the scythe.

Ahead the Vorcha were falling even faster, the grenade having driven several into something akin to a frenzy as they ignored their cover to instead leap forward...and quickly fall as Michael and Zaeed's assault rifles poured shots into a vicious crossfire down the centre, tearing the Vorcha apart like paper.

It was a disgusting sight...and not at all surprising considering them being on Omega. _I'm going to need a shower after this, the reek is in my clothes_...

As Miranda saw the last Vorcha down the centre of the room fall...Michael instantly holstered his assault rifle and drew his sniper rifle, Zaeed only slightly slower as he followed suit...and both bringing their weapons to bear on the so far inefficient Vorcha on the right.

Thump after thump...and creature after creature fell, head and necks opened as they desperately increased their own volume of fire, which only made it even _more_ inaccurate...

Michael was now standing straight, shot after shot ringing out from his rifle..._ignoring_ the missile arching at him.

Miranda moved to call out..._too_ _late_!

The man stood fast as the missile arched towards him, the man only raising his left gauntlet over his face...as the missile exploded before him.

His shield shimmered and failed even as fragments tore silver lines in his black armour...the dust enveloping him...

The explosion faded...and Michael, still standing, unmoved, levelled his weapon and fired a final shot at the creature that had _dared_ to find its target.

The Vorcha gasped...and fell along with its crude weapon.

_Arrogant_... Miranda's thought lacked power though as she straightened, watching Michael holster his weapon as calmly as if he was just on the firing range even as the silver scars along his armour sizzled from the impacts of the superheated fragments.

It was...however idiotic a reason for it...an impressive sight.

The man didn't seem aware of it though, nodding towards the console as he looked at Zaeed. "Insert the cure, then we can get out of here."

"Music to my ears." The mercenary grunted, reaching back and retrieving the cure from the pack built into his armour before moving towards the computers at the other end of the room.

Michael didn't move with him however. Instead the man frowned...and pulled his pistol free as he calmly moved towards the centre of the room.

_What_ _now_...? Miranda frowned as well, moving to watch, Jacob a silent shadow behind her.

What she found was the Vorcha Michael had shot at the very start of the battle. The creature was on its back, growling as its hand clutched at its injury...an injury now only covered in caked blood as its impressive regenerative abilities were brought to bear.

Michael put a foot onto its chest, drawing a hiss from it and almost sounded bored as he levelled his gun upon it. "I'll ask again, do you work with the Collectors?"

"Commander, I'm unsure if..."

"I've spent what feels like a lifetime fighting the Reapers." Michael interrupted Jacob's protest, not taking his eyes from the Vorcha as he regarded it as if it was a bug under his boot, his voice was _ice_. "If the Collectors indeed _do_ work for them they made a great effort in killing me, I want to know their motivations, _including_ in this, and I'll be _damned_ if I'll have this pathetic thing stand in my way..."

_Good_. Miranda nodded, feeling new hope for the man kindle.

"So..." The man growled, eyes narrowing at the Vorcha. "Talk."

"Filthy human!" Was the snarled reply, the creature reaching up...

"Yes, that's talking, but not telling me anything I want to hear." Michael calmly retorted as the claws scratched at his boot...

A bang...and the creature's right shoulder opened up in an explosion of gore.

The arm dropped down onto the floor...and the creature screamed out its rage.

"_Again_, Collectors?"

"I'll kill you!" Was the gasped reply.

"Unlikely." Michael's boot left the Vorcha momentarily, the creature moving upwards...before thumping back into the floor as the boot cracked into its face. "Now, Collectors?"

The creature twisted its head, glaring at Michael, red eyes glancing down at the foot coming down onto its chest, a foot that then begun to _press _down...the Vorcha squirmed where it lay, gasping: "Weak human! I will-!"

Another bang of Michael's pistol...and the right shoulder of the Vorcha once more exploded, the arm flopping and twitching as it fell away from its body in a shower of blood.

It _screamed_...and Miranda coolly regarded it as it trashed about while she noted: "Shepard, I believe it won't survive much longer unless-"

"I know." The man interrupted as he leant down, left hand aglow with his omni-tool...and the omni-gel was transferred to the Vorcha, stemming the blood-flow of the massive wound.

The screaming turned into a hissing...which turned into a _gasp_ as Michael's omni-tool faded away...and his hands closed around the creature's throat.

The man was close now, his knee digging into the chest of the Vorcha as he placed his face inches from its own, his pistol pressing against the side of its head as he stared into its eyes, his voice a low hiss. "Listen you filthy little ant, I'm _tired_...and I'm _sick_ of looking for evidence I can almost sense around _every_ corner, I'm _sick_ of _always_ finding an obstacle to stop me from doing the _right_ thing, I'm _sick_ of types like _you_. So you _will_ tell me what I want to hear or I will give you a _slow_ and _agonising_ death where I _truly_ put those regenerative abilities of yours to the _test_. Do you _hear_ me?"

The creature stared back into Michael's blue eyes, its gaze vacant...and Miranda sighed, crossing her arms over her chest. "Commander, you can't really _intimidate_ a Vorcha, they're either too stupid or too violent to actually-"

"Collectors! Want! Plague!" The creature exploded all of a sudden, red eyes darting left and right, doing everything _but_ look at the man so close.

_Figures_... Miranda shook her head, annoyed despite Michael's success, almost more so because the man didn't even glance at her with some victorious smirk, his gaze _fixed_ upon the creature beneath him. "Why?"

"Collectors..." The creature frowned in confusion, thinking difficult for such a simple thing. A pause...and then an explosion tinged with desperation: "...gave plague!"

"Yes, but _why_?" Michael growled, drawing a choked sound from the Vorcha as the hand around its throat tightened, the man's stare _intent_. "Answer me!" He shook the creature, thumping the back of its head into the floor with a crack.

"I doubt the Vorcha bothered to ask." Miranda noted even as she felt Jacob shift where he stood, the man clearly uncomfortable and disapproving as he look down at the questioning._ Ever the noble soldier_..._when will he realise harsh calls have to be made_? _Not to mention hurting a Vorcha barely __qualifies as harsh_... "Not when they got what they want."

Michael stopped shaking the creature, anger visibly receding as he nodded, voice turning almost _friendly_: "Did they give you the plague to spread it throughout the station?"

The Vorcha turned its head left and right, confused and frightened...then forced itself to meet the man's gaze as it fervently nodded, eyes twitching in fear.

The man frowned, making the Vorcha flinch away...though Miranda could tell it wasn't aimed at the creature, it was one of a thinking man. She knew what questions he was asking himself, questions _she_ was asking herself...but _she_ could volunteer the information that gave the _answer_: "Humans are low class citizens here, most don't even carry weapons, never mind know how to use them."

"So if they kill everyone but them and some Vorcha..." Michael nodded in understanding: "...they will not be tied in any costly and long boarding action when they move in to kidnap the human inhabitants..." Another nod. "...yes, a good plan."

"I wouldn't call it _good_..." Jacob muttered, his feet loudly shifting over the floor even as the lights of the room brightened, the fans being brought back online as Zaeed casually strolled away from the controls, tossing the now empty vials over his shoulder. "Commander, I'm not sure this is how you..."

Miranda rolled her eyes even as Michael snorted, still not taking his eyes off the Vorcha, as if believing his gaze could somehow pierce its thick skull and find some more information. "Oh I'm sorry, is the _Cerberus_ operative taking the moral high ground?"

_Still disliking Cerberus I see_?_ But at least he's showing willingness to do what's needed_. Miranda kept her face neutral as she made another mental note.

Jacob hadn't changed however, his voice was steady as he retorted. "Yes, I am."

"Interesting." Michael released the Vorcha, straightened...and offered the creature his hand...and hoisted it to its feet. His voice was cold as he shot Jacob a look. "But irrelevant, you have not earned the privilege to judge me."

Silence.

Tension.

Then Jacob nodded, not taking his eyes from Michael's: "Noted."

And the tension broke, Michael turning back to look at the Vorcha as he nodded towards the door. "Go."

_What_? Miranda blinked in surprise. "You're sure that's wise Commander?"

"He chose to talk." Michael grunted, shrugging as he kept looking at the confused looking Vorcha clutching the stump of its shoulder. "So he gets to go."

"I wouldn't call what he did a _choice_..." Jacob muttered, still sounding uncomfortable.

Michael didn't answer, looking at the Vorcha as it slowly opened its mouth, the raspy voice tinged with pain: "I...I go?"

"Yes." Michael nodded. "Go."

And the Vorcha started running.

"Now..." Michael shrugged, turning to slowly follow the fleeing creature. "...time to get what we came for."

No one argued.

8

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8

_Thanks to Abydos Jackson for her invaluable help with this...thing!_


	15. Chapter 15

Michael felt...impatient.

Impatient and just a little pensive.

Standing in a corner and leaning against a wall he wanted nothing but to turn, walk out the door and find the elevator so he could go check up on Garrus. He couldn't do that however, not yet.

So he stood there, listening with an annoyed frown on his face, thoughts swirling through his skull like a bad drink.

The lab of the new Normandy was larger then the old one, and wasn't one doubling as a medical bay, but a room of its own...and no doubt needed if they were to handle the Collectors, their drones and whatever other technology the aliens might throw at them.

The place was one of crisp white walls and computers, holographic screens for the equipment practically covering the walls...each piece of equipment that Michael was _sure_ cost more then he had made in a _year_ as an Alliance Commander.

Mordin was walking between the various pieces, the Salarian's three fingers impossibly fast as they moved over the various screens and buttons, the big black eyes of the alien darting up and down, checking readings and settings with a speed Michael didn't think _possible_. Even his _voice_ was fast, a babbling that forced Michael to stay attentive: "Impressive layout, open spaces between centrifuge and electronic reader, saves time." A sniff. "Never worked on human hardware, high quality though, will easily adapt, should test various settings to increase efficiency, good for free time."

_At least he will be efficient_. Michael noted with a small nod even as Jacob, the man following Mordin from a safe distant, spoke: "If there is anything you need don't hesitate to ask EDI, the Illusive man is ready to give you anything you need if it'll help us."

"Yes, yes, very good, funding even better then for an STG team." Mordin babbled, the Salarian lingering by a machine Michael couldn't identify as his fingers flicked over its controls. The Salarian sniffed, making Michael's shoulders stiffen in annoyance. "Aliens, heavy funding and an AI, Cerberus desperate to succeed?"

_Otherwise they wouldn't have brought me back from the dead_. Michael grumbled even as he recognised that he wasn't _really_ annoyed with the professor.

Nor the AI, which was hard to remember as the blue orb atop the cylinder appeared in an alcove of the lab, EDI's synthetic voice polite and helpful as it always was: "Cerberus resources are heavily invested in this project Doctor Solus, and while desperation might be a factor I assure you willingness to cooperate with non-humans is not unique to this Cerberus operation."

"Yeah right..." Michael muttered, eyeing the hologram with narrowed eyes.

He didn't like EDI.

At first it had been well and good, when he had been struggling to recover from all that was new...when the memories had been so fresh he had at times had difficulties to _see_ properly for all the memories of what had once been assaulting his vision. He had seen EDI...and seen that the ship was different from the old Normandy, that there was a _difference_ between what he saw and what his memories told him.

But _now_...Michael didn't doubt the shackles of the AI, Cerberus had, as the computer mentioned, invested heavily in the project and wouldn't risk EDI going rogue... yet for all that it _was_ an artificial intelligence, in essence no different from the Geth, and the Geth had _fought _their former masters...as had several AI he had stumbled upon during his hunt for Saren.

So for all its politeness and friendliness...Michael didn't doubt a freed EDI would open every latch on the ship and blast them all into space. He remembered his argument with Tali, how he'd seen the Geth to be in the _right_ to defend themselves, he still believed that, hell, he even believed they were right to fight for their _freedom_...

That didn't mean, however, that he'd appreciate EDI killing them all to become free, however right it was.

It was a risk.

"Of course, of course." Mordin nodded, the Salarian smiling at the hologram, apparently already taking a liking to it. _Scientists_... "Species too intermingled to stand alone, cooperation furthers all, even Cerberus recognises such, can't risk..." A cock of that alien head, a smirk. "...strain." Then the head snapped round, looking over at Michael. "Lab in excellent condition, will begin testing samples brought from Cerberus when I've calibrated all the equipment, approximately in thirty minutes."

_He __is__ efficient_... Michael arched an eyebrow, but said nothing as the dark thought that had plagued him _returned_.

It had felt _good_ to hurt that Vorcha...

He didn't like that.

Yes, he had been stressed, wanting nothing more then to return and check on Garrus, not to mention feeling a great desperate _need_ for knowing more about the Collectors and any ties they might have to the Reapers.

Yet...something was _off_ about it. It wasn't that he'd gained so little information, basically a confirmation of their suspicion, for such a brutal interrogation.

Tali...she had said he was a good man once...but to do such a thing to another sentient being...it didn't feel like something a good man would _do_.

Yet...didn't Cerberus have a point? The Illusive man, Miranda...if the end was death for all the galaxy because you didn't do all in your power to prevent it...wasn't that doing wrong? So if doing something vicious, something _brutal_...gave you the means to _change_ that end...wasn't that doing _good_?

And _Tali_...Michael lowered his head, scowling at the floor as grief gripped him...her _horror_...as if he was a _monster_ of some sort...

_Maybe I am_? _Maybe_..._I'm __not__ a good man any more_? _Maybe they only resurrected the monster from __before__ Elysium_...?

_Did I do good_..._or bad_?_ Am I good_..._or evil_?_ A man_..._or a monster_?_ What am I_?

Mordin's voice violently jolted him from his thoughts: "Would be happy for more samples, different ones, Collectors advanced, will need ample and diverse supply of specimens to analyse."

"Everything Cerberus finds will be forwarded to this ship" EDI replied, the computer pausing as it considered its words. "Though such results will be scarce due to the Collector's way of attack, I postulate that we will get most of our specimen from our own operations."

_It's not __your__ anything_. Michael shot the hologram a glare as he eased off the wall, arms dropping to his sides, his voice neutral and flat as he ignored the computer "We'll see what happens professor, I can't promise you more specimens with so little about the Collectors to go on."

"Of course, need to prepare, analyse patterns of attack, narrow down possible targets of interest and intercept enemy forces." Mordin nodded. "Not my first operation Shepard, will let you handle command, will work with what I have. It will be..." A sniff. "...interesting."

_Interesting_... Michael held back his own snort of derision, feeling...tired. _The galaxy at stake_..._interesting_... "Mr Taylor will assist you with anything else you might need professor, thank you." Michael offered the two a curt nod. "Gentlemen."

The Salarian only waved back at him, the professor busy working on another computer, enthralled by the numbers and lists on it. Jacob on the other hand turned and nodded, making a stiff salute and holding it as he held Michael's gaze.

There was tension there, the man had _not_ liked the torture of the Vorcha...a good man.

Michael wished he could say the same thing about himself.

He nodded and turned, unwilling to enter a useless staring contest. Whatever Jacob thought of him the man would do his job as a good soldier...and that was all Michael felt himself worthy to ask.

The door slammed shut behind him...and he was in the command room, the personnel on their posts barely looking up from their work to salute. Whatever Michael's thoughts about Cerberus...the Illusive man had so far been good on his word and supplied an able crew, Michael actually believed the current crew to be more able then the last one.

He ignored them though, heading straight for the elevator as he felt that worm of worry in his gut grow.

Kelly Chambers offered him a reassuring smile, the woman had come forth to tell him Garrus was recovering nicely the moment he'd arrived on the Normandy. Though Michael appreciated it...he had to see for himself and only offered a quick nod as he entered the elevator, hand practically punching the command to move down a floor.

A feeling of vertigo...and the elevator began to move down.

And instantly EDI's hologram appeared on the floor of the little room, tone implying hesitation: "Commander...have I upset you? I sensed some hostility in the science lab."

Michael sighed. It was bad enough to have an AI on board, but to have it able to show up everywhere was just creepy. "No EDI, there is no hostility, get back to your regular duties."

"If you are..."

"_Now_, EDI."

"Yes, Commander." The hologram faded, the AI unable to disobey a direct order...something Michael was infinitely grateful for...even as such shackling of the AI worried him.

_It's not worth it, I should research any possibility of getting rid of it, it's too risky_...

Then the door opened...and Michael stepped out, all thoughts about the AI disappearing as he lengthened his strides and he moved towards the medical bay...

_Please be okay_..._please be okay_..._please be okay_...

"Commander."

Michael stopped short of the door to the medical bay, the title freezing him to the spot, or rather...the voice speaking it.

He turned his head...and the smile suddenly splitting his face was almost painful. "Garrus!"

The Turian was back in his armour, the thing still marked from the sniping round...as was his face, his right mandible showing a sizeable pale pink scar that stood out from his otherwise tan coloured scales. He was sitting by the dining table, a steel tray full of steaming food left ignored as with interlocked claws resting on the table he looked back at Michael, a calm smile on his broken face.

Silence.

Stillness.

Then Michael moved forth...drew out a chair...and sat down with a sigh, feeling some of his tension fading as he looked across the table at his friend.

Neither said anything, content to watch each other for the moment.

It was strange. The two years Michael had spent dead seemed to have been kinder to him than to Garrus. The Turian's face was now marked with a prominent scar while Michael's had disappeared...and while Michael wasn't exactly in the best of places...Garrus outright looked..._off_. There was a weariness in him, a tautness...even something desperate in his eyes, something that hadn't been there before.

Life had been hard on them both...but Michael sensed Garrus had come off the worst for it.

As if sensing his thoughts Garrus looked away, pained regret in his face. "It's good to see you."

"_Is_ it? I...met Tali a while ago and that didn't..." Michael swallowed, the pain _still_ like a knife in the gut. "...go well."

"Yeah..." Garrus looked back at him, nodding. "...I imagine so..."

"Huh? What do you mean? Do you know..." Michael shook his head, stopping the questions he so wanted to hear the answers to...yet fearing them. "No, sorry, I should ask how you are...you really took a beating back there."

"You think?" Garrus smirked, a hand moving up to touch his scar...only to pull back with a grimace of pain. "Considering the numbers against me I consider myself lucky...besides, women like scars."

Michael managed a smirk of his own at that, he could feel a hint of tension between them...both struggling to overcome it. "_Really_? Now I wish I didn't get rid of mine..."

A small chuckle as the Turian shook his head, looking down at his meal as his tone became pensive. "I still can't believe it's you, _alive_...how did they _do_ that?"

"Two years, millions of credits and a lot of work." Michael replied, shuddering as he remembered what Jacob had told him before. "When they started I wasn't much more then a few pieces of charred flesh..."

"You..." Garrus' voice died, the Turian hesitating as he cocked his head to the side, watching Michael with worry. "...feeling..._whole_ now? I mean that sounds...painful."

"I wasn't alive back then, and when I woke up the pain wasn't so bad..." Michael grimaced as he looked down at Garrus' untouched meal, wondering if it was the Mess Sergeant Gardner's cooking or his injuries that had ruined Garrus' appetite. "Though...everything feels so _recent_..." He hesitated, he hadn't really explained it all that much to anyone...but this was _Garrus_...and he _needed_ to tell the man. "...when I woke up I almost...the memories, they were all so _vivid_...and all felt like they had happened _yesterday_...I...they still feel so..._new_."

"Ah." Garrus nodded, but Michael could tell the Turian didn't quite understand, after all...how could he? "You...feeling better now though?" It was a silly question, but what _could_ he say?

"Yeah." The lie easily passed Michael's lips as he looked up, meeting Garrus' eyes as he forced a smile. "It's good to be back."

"Yeah...it's good to have you back." Garrus agreed with a nod. "I mean when you died..." His mandibles twitched as the Turian gritted his teeth, nostrils flaring with a deep breath. "...it wasn't a good time for any of us...and it only got worse..." His eyes grew distant, the Turian looking over Michael's shoulder as he mumbled: "...and _worse_..."

"I..." Michael hesitated, feeling Garrus' pain...but unsure if he should intrude.

Silence.

But he _needed_ to know, he needed to _understand_.

A deep breath.

Then he forced himself to meet Garrus' eyes: "How...did you end up here? All of this...I mean last I remember was receiving a message from you while I was out hunting Geth. You had aced a marksmanship test and was halfway through the Turian's Spectre program..."

Garrus' mouth moved to form a smile...but there was nothing but sadness in his eyes as he replied: "You died."

Michael blinked, unsure how to respond.

There was no need, Garrus took a deep breath...shook his head...and looked down at his hands as he spoke. "You remember how it was...you, me and Tali still spoke via messages after we defeated Saren, at times we got one from Liara and Wrex. It wasn't like it was back on the Normandy, I think we all missed that...but it was okay, right? We all had work to do and...all that."

Michael nodded, gently urging the man on: "I remember."

"And then you died..." Garrus' hands twitched, mouth twisting into an angry frown. "...I assume you've read the extranet, how Sovereign was a _Geth_ ship, an _isolated_ _raid_ on the Citadel, how the Reapers don't _exist_...?" Michael grimaced and nodded, well aware. "That all happened after you died, the Council erased everything, changed every fact and document, it wasn't overnight...just a slow skewing of the story so nobody would notice...and sickeningly effective."

The words hung there...and Michael felt his heart slow in worry as he felt more to come.

"They..." Garrus looked away, shoulders bunching up. "...then began to make changes in the Spectre program. They felt you had been too dangerous and unpredictable, _uncontrollable_...so they began to turn the program into some sick special forces of c-sec." An angry shake of his head. "Everything by the book and usingyour _own_ initiative was suddenly frowned upon...no risks, lots of red tape...everything a Spectre wasn't supposed to be held back by was suddenly something to consider...it was a joke."

Michael grimaced, guilt stabbing at his heart as he realised what would come.

Garrus looked back at him, eyes intent. "You remember, I was already irritated with the slow progress of the training and the rules...but what the Council was doing to the program...I just couldn't stand it."

"So you came to Omega..." Michael concluded, the guilt not leaving him. _I put him here_...

"Seemed like a good idea at the time." Garrus shrugged, then shook his head as he looked down at the table between them. "To find a criminal I just had to point my gun and shoot...I could do _good_, no rules, no regulations...it was a perfect fit."

"Sounds like something you'd like." Michael agreed, smile weary, knowing there would be no happy ending.

"It was, all those mercenaries banding together against me...you wouldn't believe the stunts I pulled off to get them _that_ mad..." Garrus nodded, matching Michael's weary smile as he kept looking down on the table. "...I saved more people in a _week_ there then I had for a _year_ back on the Citadel. I..._dammit_..." The Turian's voice failed, the man's head dropping low as hands closed into fists. "...even got a team together, I thought...we could actually turn things around, make Omega into something else, perhaps it would take many more years but..._dammit_..."

_Ashley_..._Kaidan_..._Elysium_...

Michael reached out and placed a hand on Garrus'. "Losses are never easy...they shouldn't be...you did your best..."

"Yeah." The Turian pulled his hands out of reach, still staring at the table as his voice became filled with regret. "I did, and now they're all dead, some commander I am huh? A trusting fool..."

"Garrus..." Michael hesitated, but had to say it: "...it's not healthy to blame yourself..."

"Look who's talking." Garrus scoffed, still not looking up.

"Yeah, I know this better than anyone." Michael retorted, sympathy squeezing his heart tight. _You never deserved this buddy_... "It doesn't help, and both you and I know that you did your utmost to protect them."

Silence, the Turian frowning.

His voice was low, bitter: "Maybe so..." He looked up, eyes hard, a hint of tears in the corners. "...but that doesn't change that they're dead."

Michael sighed, what was there to say? What _could_ he say? "You can't plan for everything..."

"Least of all betrayal..." Garrus growled, mandibles flaring as his distant eyes hardened further with the memory of the traitor Michael had only heard vague stories about back with the mercenaries he'd betrayed in Omega. "...I'm going to find Sidonis, Michael..." His eyes returning to the moment, nearly glaring at Michael: "...and I will kill him."

Michael nodded. "He has to face the consequences of his choice...I'll help you, just ask."

Silence, the two soldiers looking at one another, the tension between them slowly evaporating.

"As always."Garrus smiled, nodded...then chuckled as he shook his head. "Coming back from the dead to watch my back, I'm honoured. You really _are_ a good friend."

Michael chuckled, smiled...only for the smile to slowly die as he felt the question that had dug its way through his heart for so long force its way forward. "Garrus...when I...she..."

Garrus' own smile faded, the look of a painful memory on his face as he nodded. "Ah...I wondered when you would ask...are you sure you..." A look at Michael's face. "...yeah, you need to know."

Michael swallowed...hesitated...then managed a stiff nod. "Tell me."

Garrus took a deep breath, the Turian leaning forward over the table as he stared at Michael's chest, unable to meet his gaze: "I...went to your funeral."

Silence.

"It was...quite a grand ceremony you know, every human politician was there, every admiral and general, the Council, the Consort, a lot of people from the colonies we saved...enough celebrities to fill the largest chamber in the Citadel." Garrus' gaze flicked up even as Michael grimaced in disgust...and the Turian managed a weak smile: "Yeah...we assumed you'd react like that if you'd seen it...an army of people grieving the great hero that had fallen, most having never even _met_ you."

Michael smiled at that, however annoying the idea of such a grand ceremony held by strangers was...it was good that the others at least had found some amusement in it. "At least you got some decent food."

"Too fancy for my tastes." Garrus chuckled, a chuckle that swiftly died out as the memory of the event dug away at his humour.

Silence.

Then Michael spoke, feeling forced to ask: "And..." His throat felt tight, painful. "...those that _did_ matter?"

Garrus sighed, obviously reluctant to speak of it. "Michael, I'm not..."

"Garrus..." Michael caught the Turian's eyes...his own pleading. "..._please_."

For a moment Garrus held his gaze...before he looked down at the table with a hesitant nod. "All right..."Wrex wasn't there." There was bitterness in Garrus' voice now, eyes narrowing at the table. "A 'security risk'...him trying to unite the Krogan clans on Tuchanka did not go appreciated, it didn't matter that he'd helped you save the Citadel and the Council, he was a danger and not allowed off his planet. I should have known it was just the first of their decisions that would diminish what you had done..."

Silence...though Michael found himself smiling, if only a little. He could imagine Wrex had met such a decision with his usual stoicism, no doubt he had had a bottle of Ryncol in Michael's honour...and deemed it enough.

Which it was.

"Nor Kaidan." A derisive snort. "Too busy apparently..." The Turian growled the words. "...I was almost surprised he didn't show up to make sure you were dead...the ungrateful son of a bitch."

"Garrus..." Michael gently scolded the Turian. He remembered what had happened to the Lieutenant all too well, the pain still fresh in his mind...and couldn't feel anger towards the man, not any more. He had made a choice...and that was it.

There was no reply from the Turian, the man just looking away, apparently disagreeing.

Michael's voice was soft, fearful of what was to come. "Go on..."

"The rest of us were there.." Garrus' tone shifted to one of pain. "Doctor Chakwas was there with Joker..." He shook his head. "...she stayed by his side the entire time, supporting him...h-he...looked so _guilty_..." Another shake of his head, slower, pained.

Michael grimaced, he remembered tossing the pilot into the escape pod...he had never regretted doing so. Yet he could understand the guilt...even if thinking of Joker as anything but that confident and snarky pilot to be in emotional distress felt..._unreal_.

"Tali...didn't make things better." Garrus grimaced as Michael tensed, fear gripping his heart as Garrus look back at him with a slow shake of his head. "You must understand, Joker felt guilty about not having saved you...and Liara too...you should have seen her Michael...she was so pale and...actually looked more guilty than Joker for some reason..." Garrus grimaced at the memory. "And I...I was trying to keep them together, to stop letting those vultures calling themselves politicians use your death for their own purposes, to...I don't know...take up your fight."

"Garrus..." Michael swallowed, the fear gripping his heart tighter as he sensed the Turian stalling. "..._please_."

Silence.

The two staring at one another.

And then Garrus looked away. "She took your death..._badly_." A grimace. "When she arrived she was...well...a _wreck_...and then..." The Turian visibly swallowed, refusing to meet Michael's gaze. "...she got angry...she started cursing at Joker and Liara...calling them all manner of things...accusing them of having _killed_ you..." He shuddered...as did Michael. _No_..._it_..._shouldn't have happened_... "Joker just stood there and took it...never said a word. Liara though...she started to cry...really just..._breaking_ as Tali continued to rail at her..."

_Tali_...

Michael blinked, eyes burning with swelling tears, throat closing up tight. "Neither...deserved..."

"Of course they didn't." Garrus muttered, still refusing to meet Michael's gaze. "I...tried to help, to separate her from them, I mean with all the guests...she was _screaming_ at them, Michael...and then at _me_ when I tried to pull her away..." Garrus' grimaced in pain, whatever the Quarian had said it had bitten _deep_. "And then she just started to _cry_ and...Michael...she just didn't..." Finally Garrus looked up, shoulder bunched up as he met Michael's eyes, his own welled up with emotions. "...she just didn't..._stop_...it..._hours_ Michael...for _hours_..."

This time Michael was the one looking away, feeling ashamed for what he had caused as he felt warm wetness trickle down his cheeks. _Tali_...

His voice was but a choked gasp: "And...then?"

"She left." Garrus muttered. "We all just..._left_...none of us could bear to stay any longer after that..."

Silence descended upon them.

And Michael barely noticed, eyes distant as he stared at the table, shoulders shaking.

_None of you deserved that_..._I_..._I'm so sorry_...

Garrus' voice was strangely distant as he spoke: "I...tried to stay in touch with the others after that...but...well Liara and Wrex had never sent that many messages...and they stopped coming after a while. Tali...I tried Michael...I _tried_, but the messages...they became less and less conversational and more me _trying_ to talk to her as she...wrote _reports_...of what she was doing, of her missions...and they became fewer and fewer...until they stopped."

"She..." Michael swallowed, the lump in his throat nearly choking him. "...hates me..."

"No..." Garrus retorted. "...not at _all_. But..." He hesitated. "...I don't think she's doing too well Michael..."

Defeat.

It hung there, unspoken and massive, blotting out the room as it squeezed Michael from all sides, crushing him into his chair with its immense weight.

He couldn't see him...but he knew Garrus was equally trapped, crushed by the loss of his team, of his inability to salvage what Michael's death had ruined...

Michael reached out blindly...found Garrus hand...and squeezed it tightly.

And so they sat there, anchoring one another, holding on as they weathered the storm.

Together when all else was lost.

8

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_Thanks to Abydos Jackson for her patience with me._


	16. Chapter 16

There was nostalgia in the air.

Michael smiled at that, feeling some tension in his lower back ease away as he leant against the right wall of the cockpit, arms crossed over his chest and eyes focused on the approaching planet. Opposite him Garrus had assumed a similar pose, the Turian smiling as well. And sitting by the controls, as he should be, Joker steered their ride towards their destination, the pilot also smiling.

None acknowledged the feeling...but it was there.

Of course it wasn't all the same, the cockpit was bigger now, and in the corner the hologram of EDI stood out like an eyesore. Miranda and Jacob also stood a step ahead and between Michael and Garrus, their Cerberus uniforms a painful reminder of what had changed. Miranda was no Ashley...and Jacob no Kaidan.

Still...the feeling of belonging, of purpose, endured...it felt _right_ that they were together, no matter what banner they flew.

"Ugly planet." Joker noted, his capped head bobbing towards the brown orb slowly growing before them.

It _was_ ugly. A pale brown thing with blotches of darker brown Korlus resembled the droppings of some animal...the faint haze of moving black clouds surrounding it did nothing to help things... And considering what was on file about it, the planet being a 'recycling plant' for old starships...it wasn't much of a welcoming sight.

Still, Joker's comment stirred a memory...and Michael grinned: "Wow Joker, insulting the planet again...that's no way to get a second date."

A chuckle escaped the pilot as he turned to shoot Michael a smirk: "Oh no you don't, I know what you're doing...it's _not_ a woman."

Garrus shook his head, smirking: "Joker being picky...that's a new one."

Joker blinked, the pilot baffled by Garrus actually making a _joke_...only to roll his eyes at the Turian as he with a shaking head turned back to the controls: "What was that, scarface? I could have sworn _you_ insulted _my_ looks."

Garrus shrugged, the smirk not dying, reminding Michael that things indeed _had_ changed...but that all change wasn't necessarily _bad_. "You humans _all_ look ugly to me, you're lucky human women are _as_ ugly...and that Asari are so..._generous_."

An explosion of laughter escaped Joker at that, drawing a small shudder from the ship as he struck the controls. Miranda sighed in irritation at that...but went ignored as Michael retorted with a grin. "I'm sorry..._who_ was judged most eligible bachelor in five magazines two years ago? You two should bow before me."

"Oh come on, those lists are rigged." Joker groaned, amusement tingeing his voice. "_Of course_ the great and oh so famous _hero_ ends up topping the lists...if you think that actually makes you good looking you're delusional."

Michael chuckled, as he had when he'd seen those lists two years ago, Joker _was_ right, but that was no reason not to bash him over the head with it. "Oh? Do I detect a hint of jealousy?"

This time Miranda's sigh was _loud_...but yet again ignored as Garrus chuckled. "You know, this ship could do with more mirrors to deflate that ego of yours."

"The hold doubles as a gym you know..." Jacob suddenly said, the man looking back at Garrus and Michael with a cocked head and a half-smile. "...we could take him there and make him sweat it away?"

There was a moment of silence at that as the three friends considered the black man...before Garrus chuckled with a nod. "Yeah, you're right, Michael's been resting too much on old laurels, I've noticed he's slowed down a bit..."

"Oh?" Michael's face split into a grin at that as his gaze darted between the two men smirking at him. "Is that a challenge I hear? Because, bring it on, I'll-"

"Could we focus on the task at hand?" Miranda interrupted with an exasperated sigh as she turned to face him, arms crossed over her chest and lips a thin line of annoyance. "Reaching Okeer will be difficult as it is without you wasting time when we should be planning."

Michael, Garrus and Jacob exchanged amused smirks at that...and even Joker threw back a simper over his seat...a smirk mostly aimed at Miranda's _backside_...but _still_. Michael managed to keep his voice fairly neutral as he replied though. "We don't have his precise location, only a rough estimation. So I can only think of us dropping down among the ruins of his estimated location and proceed on foot, scouting as we go."

Miranda snorted in irritation...but came up with no alternative plan, there wasn't much intelligence to go on after all.

Instead it was EDI that spoke, the AI's voice souring Michael's mood somewhat as it said: "My sensors are detecting combat around Okeer's estimated location, communications match Blue Suns encryption protocols but no other...I suggest dropping down where such combat is not occurring..."

_And then proceed on foot and see what it is_. Michael finished even as he frowned in irritation. "Is that so? Are you sure?"

"My sensors do not lie." _But can you_? "There _is_ combat there."

Michael regarded the hologram silently as the others stood still, looking at him expectantly, waiting for the decision that was his alone...as it always was.

Yet Michael said nothing, his gaze focused on EDI's hologram, vainly trying to peer into it to understand its intentions. Was it a trick? Would killing all officers make escaping easier? Or was it just the bitter lashing out of a shackled being?

There was no answer in the hologram looking back at him, just the patience only an AI could exhibit.

He couldn't trust it.

But did he have a choice?

_As it's a sentient being I should_..._further trust_..._if only to gain insight into how much a danger it __posses_.

He nodded. "Very well EDI, locate a spot as near to the Krogan's estimated position as possible that isn't currently being fought over, preferably with a clear path to the main structure of the Blue Suns' base."

"Located." EDI instantly replied. "Potential drop sites found and uploaded to the shuttle for you to choose from, available tactical data and locations of enemy fighting also uploaded, ready to be downloaded to your combat suit if you need it."

_That was fast_... Michael kept his tone neutral however as he nodded. "Thank you EDI, I will do so."

Instantly the atmosphere changed, all of them standing a little straighter as Korlus continued to grow in size before them.

Michael nodded to Miranda: "Ready the team."

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Korlus was no better looking from the ground.

Miranda grimaced, nose wrinkling. _Actually_..._it's_ _worse_.

Around them the jagged shells of burnt out and wrecked starships lay like the remains of great beasts. Their rusted shells forming great cliffs and forests of jagged peaks in a landscape that otherwise would have been nothing but an arid desert.

The clouds above were black and somewhat greasy-looking...and with the addition of the black smoke rising from many distant fires there was an acridness to the air of the planet, as if it didn't quite agree with those supposed to breathe it.

Miranda's grimace worsened, she didn't even want to _think _about what such an atmosphere would do to her hair...

On a more positive note they were making good progress, EDI's options for potential drop sites had all been good...and Miranda agreed with Michael about the choice he had made, it was close enough to the Blue Suns' base...and would lead to a minimal amount of combat if they did their job well.

So far they had only heard combat far in the distance. The forward scouting Mordin and Zaeed had lead the group safely around the odd battle and patrol...and they therefore remained unnoticed now that the Blue Suns' base...an old refinery by the looks of the massive tower rising above them...came closer and closer.

It was curious though, it seemed the combat was taking place between Blue Suns and a host of Krogan whose armour lacked any distinctive markings. In fact, several Krogan corpses they'd stumbled over even _lacked_ armour...or _weapons_...and according to Mordin's reports so did several of those that now were locked in battle with the mercenaries.

But the Krogan were _many_...and _tough_...and for each mercenary that fell another Krogan became armed, and for each Krogan that fell _two_ seemed to replace him...

It was...curious.

She had seen that Michael had thought of it as well...the man _was_ a thinker...even as he concealed it with that frustrating..._glibness_!

Even now she could hear him snicker as he and Garrus made out Jacob's and Miranda's rearguard. The Illusive man had been _adamant_ about it being _good_ that Garrus was around the Commander...but Miranda wasn't so sure. Yes, the man seemed _happier_ now...but it was a _distraction_.

Plus it was..._irritating_!

As if hearing her thoughts Garrus snickered as well, tone tinged with amusement: "What?"

"Just thinking..." Michael retorted...and Miranda could _feel_ his smirk. "...you remember the good old days when people actually went into battle wearing _armour_?"

_Here we go_... Miranda rolled her eyes, not the least amused as she noted Jacob's little smirk. Both of their suits were actually made of thick ceramic fibres able to stop most small arms fire...and more importantly sporting powerful shield generators. A perfect mix of personal protection and mobility in Miranda's opinion.

Garrus chuckled however. "It's been two _years_ Michael, with the more powerful guns armour only does so much nowadays...shields are more important...as is _fashion_..." Another chuckle.

Michael just snickered as the group continued down a trench made from some spaceship that by now had been removed, the jagged pieces of steel rising above them ominous...and _ignored_ by the man and his..._humour_. "Oh? You think my armour's ugly? I'm _hurt_..."

"Not as hurt as those two will be when they kneel into gravel." Garrus pointed out, drawing a chuckle out of both of them.

"Oh yes..." Jacob retorted, humour in his voice as he ignored Miranda's glare._ Don't you start too_... "Because the discomfort of kneeling against something hard is far worse then running around lugging twenty pounds of armour around in addition to all your weapons? I remember my old Alliance armour, you could never get the smell of sweat out of it."

Miranda could actually _feel_ Garrus and Michael exchange amused glances! Michael's voice was _full_ of it. "Seems you're right buddy, _fashion_...one apparently isn't allowed to _stink_ after a good fight now..."

Garrus voice was dry. "Yes, I'm afraid it became a fashionable form of art where dirt and such is frowned upon when we weren't looking..."

A small chuckle escaped Jacob...and Miranda gritted her teeth, staring intently ahead of herself as she tried to ignore their meaningless bickering. "Is this the part where the old men complain about how much better things were before?"

"Ha!" Michael exclaimed with a laugh. "That's it, don't count on me to stand between you and any enemy fire!"

"This suit is quite capable of repelling enemy shots you know..."

"Ah yes, I'll remember you said that when we land on a planet where the natives shoot arrows at you..."

_For goodness sake_... Miranda sighed, a hand coming up to rub her temple as she found her mouth moving: "That's unlikely, and if it happens we have superior firepower, now can we _please_...focus?"

"And here I thought women could multi-task..." Michael muttered in an amused reply...making Miranda's eyes twitch in annoyance. "...besides, I'm just saying that I think you two are taking an unnecessary risk..."

"Really Commander, we'll be fine." Jacob retorted, nodding back at the two in the rearguard with a smile.

Silence, _blissful_ silence, descended upon them as they moved forward.

"Ouch!" Next to her Jacob stumbled forward, hand darting back to rub his back as a rock bounced down onto the ground.

Miranda and Jacob both spun around at that, her hands closing into fists...and Jacob chuckling as he rubbed his back.

Before them Michael and Garrus were looking up and to the sides, at anywhere _but_ at the two Cerberus officers...both innocent as _sin_. Miranda's voice was a hiss: "What. Was. That?"

"What? Michael asked, looking back at her with a smirk. "Did someone get hurt by a thrown rock that proves the new style of armour is vulnerable against low-tech attacks?" She narrowed her eyes at him...and the man's smirk widened as he shoved a thumb into Garrus' direction. "Hey, _he_ did it."

"_What_?" The Turian grinned widely as he looked at Michael in feigned shock. "I'd _never_...besides, I only aim for the head."

"Oh?" Michael looked back at Garrus, grinning widely as he cocked an eyebrow at the Turian...and Miranda found herself _fuming_. "And what do _I _do?"

Garrus shrugged. "You just hit them with a bigger rock."

Jacob laughed at that as the other two men grinned...and Miranda took a step forward, finger angrily pointing at the pair. "Listen you two! I don't know where-"

"Mordin here." The radio in her ear suddenly called out, stopping her mid-sentence as all focused to the the transmission. "Patrol discovered us, fire fight ensuing, orders?

_Dammit_!

Michael's voice was bereft of the amusement now, hard and quick. "Retreat towards us, we'll prepare."

"Acknowledged, retreating." The radio clicked shut.

Ahead Michael and Garrus were already moving to the sides of the trench, sniper rifles sliding into place in their hands as Michael calmly spoke. "Take cover and don't open up until my word, we'll eliminate them quickly and then double time it to the base before more patrols can move in on us."

_Sound_ _plan_... Miranda growled under her breath, pistol drawn as she too searched for cover.

_And I __really__ want to kill something_...

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_Thanks to Abydos Jackson for the laughs._


	17. Chapter 17

Miranda was doing admirably.

From his vantage point atop a pile of twisted steel beams – amply shaded by a broken bulkhead of some old freighter – Michael watched through the scope of his sniper rifle as Miranda lead the 'retreat'.

They had penetrated the outer defences of the Blue Suns' base with ease, the great anti-ship batteries watching the sky was no obstacle for the ground-team after all...in fact they had been helpful since the team had managed to draw defenders away from their path by blowing a few up.

The defences had stiffened the further the team had gotten though...but it was an increasingly _desperate_ defence. With the team plunging right through the base, the Krogan causing havoc and several fires to deal with it had all begun to dissolve into chaos, there was no cooperation among Blue Suns' squads any more, no one seemed to be in charge, EDI had tapped their communications and Michael had mostly heard screams, shouted orders going ignored and cries for help.

And now, at what seemed to be the heart of their base, the defenders were abandoning their cover to give chase to the bait.

It was one of the few intact structures within the area and hadn't been hard to miss. However rusty the low tower ahead was it was clearly better maintained then anything else, and the cover made from welded plates of steel ahead had been arranged to guard the door ahead...it was clearly important enough for someone to at least try to get some semblance of a _proper_ defence up...

A defence now useless as the troops guarding it charged forth.

_Mercenaries_...

Michael smirked, watching from his hiding spot as his _own_ mercenary jumped over a low wall, crouched down and sent a burst of shots towards the pursuers, one of the men stumbling as his shoulder exploded with bright blood. When it came to other mercenaries apparently Zaeed didn't miss.

Miranda was doing a better job at feigning flight though, the woman leaping awkwardly over a pile of rubble, her right leg moving sluggishly as she pretended to be injured, despite her shield still being intact. Almost as an afterthought the woman aimed her submachine gun back and fired a volley of shots over the heads of her pursuers...only to 'fall' behind a low wall just before they returned fire.

Her voice was hard to discern over the gunfire...but the word 'retreat' could just be heard...and Michael nodded, pleased. _At least she's a good team leader_...

Mordin was also proving his mettle. Michael had been a little worried that the frail professor would have a hard time adapting back to fighting as a commando after so much time spent as a doctor...sure he had defended his clinic from gangs but that wasn't the same thing...but so far the Salarian was proving otherwise.

Even as Michael watched the doctor vaulted the wall Miranda was covering behind, a bead of green blood across his face ignored as he crouched low, omni-tool aglow with readiness, his voice a whisper across the com. "In position, ready to ignite."

Michael watched as the Blue Suns' continued their advance, their blue armoured boots thumping hard against the floor – a steel bulkhead of a half-submerged ship they _trusted_ as floor – as they continued their charge after the retreating team...and right into the open.

He grinned. "Ignite."

A boom...and the explosives underneath the steel bulkhead Mordin has placed beforehand went off. Though thick and still tough, despite its age, the rusty bulkhead couldn't quite stand the blast...and broke apart.

A scream...and two of the mercenaries plummeted into the newly opened hole even as a third was sent flying into the air, legs ripped from her torso by a flying sheet of steel, making blood _fountain_ over the stumbling survivors...

"Engage." Michael needn't have said it.

Hidden among the rubble to the left of the open space Jacob appeared, like an undead wraith rising from the grave...and blasted a turning mercenary straight in the chest, sending the man falling into the opened hole with nothing but a wet gurgle.

Even further to the left Garrus opened up, Michael couldn't see the Turian, but there was no mistaking the crack of the sniper rifle and the sudden jerk of a Batarian mercenary as dark blood exploded from the back of his skull.

Zaeed loosened a grenade from his belt before tossing it into the dust and chaos of the open kill-zone with a curse...and the resultant explosion set two of the Blue Suns' aflame, the pair screaming as they flailed about, only causing more chaos among the survivors...

Survivors rapidly falling as Miranda and Mordin both rose onto one knee behind their cover and poured shots into them...the bullets tearing into flailing and disoriented mercenaries, some falling, others simply flailing around in more confusion.

Two tried to turn, to run...only for Jacob's shotgun to blast the arm off the first...and Garrus' sniper to open the neck of the other.

And then it was over.

Michael nodded to himself, smirking. _Love it when a plan comes together_. Placing his unfired sniper rifle back into place he straightened and moved down the pile of broken beams, watching as Garrus too appeared from his hiding place and offered a smile and a nod as the pair walked over to the others.

"Excellent." He said it out loud as he approached the others. It was unnecessary with such professionals, he knew that, but it never _hurt_... Not to mention that he actually _was_ pleased...and a commander should share such things. He grinned at Miranda and Mordin as the two looked at him blankly. "Perfect score." His gaze shifted: "Zaeed, a bit too eager, and one-liners yield no extra points." A chuckle greeted that. "Jacob, not _enough_ one-liners." The man smirked back and nodded.

"What? I don't get any praise?" Garrus complained with an amused snort as the man caught up with Michael.

Michael arched an offended eyebrow at the Turian, feigning a scowl: "What? You need _praise_? What are you, _twelve_?"

A snort escaped Miranda, not _completely_ annoyed...while the others chuckled.

All but Mordin, the Salarian twisting his head and pointing over at the door ahead. "Took liberty, checked energy readings while under floor, great power fluctuations inside, suspect lab or power plant."

"Good work." Michael nodded...and drew his assault rifle as he took point, stepping over the broken bodies and around the hole as he swiftly made his way to the door ahead.

It opened to the mere tap of his barrel.

The room ahead was indeed a lab...humming generators covered in rust lined the wall to the left, several computers that were obviously new, judging by their lack of wear, next to them. A few tables were strewn around the room, gutted corpses of Krogan lying atop them, obviously victims of experimentation.

And at the far end...Michael's eyes widened.

It wasn't the large tank containing one of the largest Krogan Michael had ever seen, obviously in suspended animation in the liquid within the tank.

No, it was the Krogan and human lying at the foot of the tank that made him stare in shock.

The human was a brown-haired woman in Blue Suns armour, the markings suggesting an officer, perhaps even their leader. A large shotgun was still in her grip...and her head was twisted in an awkward angle even as the Krogan's right hand still gripped onto her obviously broken neck.

The Krogan's left hand was nothing but a gory mess, broken flesh and bones held together by strings of muscle and cloth...as was his right leg. There was also a great crater in his abdomen, the hole deep and wide, organs and intestines slowly sliding out of it...

Yet the Krogan _lived_. The large yellow eyes _calmly_ looking up at him, as if having expected him.

Feeling a sneaking suspicion come upon him Michael lowered his rifle and slowly moved forth head turned to one side: "Okeer?"

"And here you are...I watched your progress on my monitors...any Krogan would pay attention when he sees Shepard coming..." The Krogan rumbled, his remaining hand releasing the woman and letting her drop to the floor as he moved it up to stroke his chin, _eerily_ calm... "Jedore lost her patience too soon I'm afraid, I will not escape this."

Michael widened his strides gesturing at the Krogan. "Mordin, he needs medical attention! Now!"

A chuckle escaped the Krogan...and the hand moved up to halt Mordin as the Salarian moved towards him. "Between the poisons she released and her more..._physical_ assault...that will not help, I can already feel my insides being destroyed...airborne virus, now circulating in my bloodstream and every organ, it won't be long now."

Michael holstered his assault rifle, arching an eyebrow in surprise. "Sounds...nice?"

The Krogan grinned, revealing bloodied teeth. "Krogan have a redundant nervous system, there is no pain, it is part of what makes us Krogan strong."

Michael moved closer, dropping onto one knee as he stared into the Krogan's eyes. "There is not much time then, tell me, you worked with the Collectors, what did they want? What do you know of them?"

"Ah, the Collectors..." A smirk...and Okeer coughed, dark blood covering his chin. "...you are here because of the missing colonists..."

"Tell me..." Michael reached down...and freed the dagger from his boot and held it up. "...or I'll test how redundant that nervous system of yours is."

He could feel Jacob bristle in disapproval...but ignored it...just as Okeer ignored the blade held up before his eyes as he grinned. "Threatening a dying man is futile Shepard...but I will give you what you want, for it is useless." The grin widened at Michael's disappointment. "I gave the Collectors many of my clones...for what purpose they wanted them I do not know, but they gave me technology, knowledge...for what I needed..." A shudder ran through the Krogan...as he shot a glance back at the tank above them. "...for making _perfection_."

"You...did all this..." Jacob muttered, the man shifting where he stood. "...all this _chaos_ and _death_...to create _one_ Krogan?"

"Perfection knows _no_ price." Okeer snorted, the Krogan scowling over Michael's shoulder even as an organ slid out of his stomach with a meaty thud. "The Genophage has made my people _weak_! They think every child is _precious_! Coddling them like humans or Asari would!"

_Harsh_... Michael narrowed his eyes at the Krogan, at least the Illusive man had given Michael choice...Okeer's clones were sold as property or were too mad to make any decision for themselves. "And your Krogan will _fix_ that?"

"Cure unlikely." Mordin interjected, an edge to his voice. "One cured Krogan also unlikely to cure species."

"A cure...?" Okeer coughed, then smirked. "Who needs a _cure_? My Krogan is _perfect_, everything about him...perfect. The Krogan will rise up again, but _not_ as a horde, as a _lance_...the genophage will be _obsolete_."

"Unlikely." Mordin sniffed. "Perhaps...no, unlikely, goal not achievable with-"

"Mordin." Michael snapped...and the Salarian quieted, Michael didn't look away from Okeer however. "Is that it? You know _nothing_ about them?" He glared at the Krogan.

"I know nothing that would help you." Okeer grunted, blinking slowly as his chest heaved with a struggling breath. "But I can still offer you something, my clone, my perfection...take him..._use_ him." _Now_ there was pain in the Krogan's eyes. "I would not wish him to stay here, stuck until someone comes to kill him...my legacy must live on."

"Dangerous." Mordin muttered...and Michael shot the Salarian an annoyed glance. _I know Salarians and Krogans have a history_..._but shut up_! Heeding his silent command Mordin looked away and pressed his lips together.

Looking back to Okeer Michael glowered at the Krogan. "And why would I do that? So he can follow your footsteps?"

"He's no...scientist...a grunt...a soldier..." Okeer rattled, blinking in annoyance, yet there was something else under his eyes..._desperation_. "You will have use of him..." A growl of annoyance, the large eyes flicking away. "...please..."

"And why would he follow Shepard?" Miranda suddenly spoke up, voice cold and calculating. "He doesn't look like he'll take orders from a human."

"That..." Okeer gasped, eyes rolling back in his skull as a fresh gush of blood left the crater in his stomach. "...is for...him to...decide..."

Miranda snorted. "What's _that_ supposed to mean?"

There was only a gasp in reply...the Krogan's head leaning back as a long sigh escaped him...

And Okeer was no more.

As Michael stared at the scientist...feeling...convinced. _His_ _choice_..._yes_...

"Well..._this_ was a waste of time." Miranda growled. "That thing isn't trustworthy and Okeer is dead...great."

"Agreed." Mordin replied. "Test subjects proven unstable, this one not yet tested, dangerous, suggest disposing."

"Well...if he'd _help_ us..." Garrus muttered, the Turian sounding unwilling to voice an opinion on the mission...as he had ever since Omega. Michael grimaced in sympathy even as he straightened, already having decided.

"I doubt anyone has ever asked his opinion." Jacob replied.

Michael nodded. "Which I will."

Only silence greeted his decision, some in confusion, others in disapproval.

He didn't care, hand moving up to change frequency in his helmet. "Normandy, this is Shepard, prepare for retrieval, we have th – _a_ package."

Joker's voice crackled with static. "Roger...that?"

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"Report."

Miranda scowled at the two crew members before her, Kenneth Donnelly and Gabriella Daniels were _good_ engineers, probably among the _best_...but Miranda regretted their workstations were at the same floor, the two seemed to _constantly_ talk while working...which no doubt diminished their efficiency.

She had even now found them in another inane conversation about EDI of all things...and the only thing stopping her from reprimanding them was that the two looked sufficiently scolded under her withering gaze.

They both managed to salute however, doing their best to keep their eyes forward as Miranda glared at the pair. Donnelly was the first to speak. "There's nothing to report ma'am, the ship is running perfectly and..."

"_I_ decide what's not worthy to report." Miranda corrected, holding out her hand. "Now, the _report_."

"I...that is...we haven't had time to..." Donnelly struggled, a lone bead of sweat running down his forehead...and Miranda found the corner of her eyes twitch in annoyance, her lungs filling as she prepared the reprimand that was a long time coming. _Time to talk but not time to write a report, of all the_...

Then there was a loud crash.

Miranda turned, half expecting something to have exploded...but found nothing but a door, the sound _had_ come from that direction though...meaning...

_Dammit_!

Shooting a scathing look back at the engineers she jabbed a finger at them. "Stay at your posts! I want that report within the next hour!"

Not waiting for their acknowledgement she moved, running through the doors ahead as she freed her pistol from her hip, face twisting into an angry grimace even as she nearly stumbled into Zaeed as she entered the corridor leading to the elevator, the mercenary too having heard the commotion and running in with an assault rifle at hand.

Shooting the mercenary a glare, a glare he ignored...Miranda gritted her teeth in annoyance as they moved to the cargo hold. _I __told__ him not to open it, to wait, to perform __tests_! _Damn him and his foolish 'choice' bullshit_!_ If he gets himself killed I will __not__ spend two more years reviving him_!

The door ahead swooshed open...just in time for Miranda to see the large Krogan, now _quite_ animated...crash head first into the wall.

It pulled its head free, heedless of the great dent it had made in the bulkhead as it turned its head to glare back from whence it came...at a Michael standing there in his armour...and no weapon at hand.

_Idiot_!

Miranda levelled her pistol...only to stop as Michael shouted. "Wait!"

Despite it all...Miranda found herself compelled to obey...even as the Krogan came trundling forth towards the man, an angry roar reverberating through the room...

Michael held his ground...and then suddenly leapt forth and down, becoming nothing but an armoured ball flying forth...right into the Krogan's knees.

It lost its footing...yet the momentum continued hurtling it forward..._flying_...straight into its now opened tank. With a resounding crash the tank fell over, glass shattering and steel bending under the impact as the Krogan landed atop it...only to leap back onto his feet, large blue eyes filled with mad hatred.

But Michael didn't wait, the man was already charging back at the creature...and sending a vicious kick into its face.

The great head snapped round...and then a clawed hand shot out and grabbed Shepard by the throat, hoisting the man off his feet and slamming him into the glassed wall next to the broken tank.

Michael's left leg came round, wrapping itself around the Krogan's great arm and hooking under its armpit..forcing the grip to ease back even as the other hand shot forth to grab him by the neck, fangs barred in rage...

Miranda took aim...as the Krogan suddenly stopped, finding Michael's large knife pressing against its left eye as the man calmly looked back at it. "Are you done?"

"Heh..." The Krogan snorted, sounding..._amused_! "...you're a spry little human...I got you good now though..."

Michael smirked back, looking ever so calm, despite the hand about to crush his throat. "And I you, want to die together?"

A chuckle. "I got nothing better to do..."

Michael cocked his head to the side, regarding the Krogan with a wry expression. "But I do, I'm taking on the Collectors."

"Collectors?" The Krogan looked bemused. "Okeer's implants tell me little of them...strong though..." It smirked. "...and _you_ intend to fight them?"

"With your help...if you so wish."

"One fight is as good as the next..." The Krogan retorted, ignoring the blade pressing against its eye as it regarded Michael. "Okeer's words are hollow...why would I help you?"

"It is your choice." Michael replied, shrugging as best he could, pinned as he was. "One fight is as good as the next isn't it? So you have a choice, either you help me, we die here...or I'll drop you off on a planet of your choosing...it is _your_ decision."

The grip on Michael's throat visibly slackened, the Krogan looking..._uncertain_? "I...have no purpose, where would I go? And killing you...bah, Okeer was right about one thing, survival is what the strong do...I can find a better fight."

Michael's feet hit the floor with a thump as the Krogan released him and took a step back. "For now...I will follow." The Krogan regarded Michael with a dubious look however. "Show weakness and I'll finish this though."

Michael calmly looked back. "From a Krogan I expect nothing less...but you'll find none." He eyed the large Krogan with curiosity now. "You have a name? Or didn't Okeer bother with that?"

"He was a fool." The Krogan shrugged. "I heard much he said, nothing of..._substance_. Though _something_ stood out..." It frowned, trying to remember. "Grunt...it works...I am Grunt, and I expect you to show me battle or I will leave."

Michael chuckled, arms crossing over his chest as he leant back against the wall, regarding the Krogan. "I _think_ I can manage that..."

Miranda only shook her head in disbelief.

_Idiot_...

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_Thanks to Abydos Jackson for her time._


	18. Chapter 18

The ground shook.

Gritting her teeth Miranda muttered a curse under her breath, shooting Michael and Zaeed both a glare even as her hands shot out to grab hold of a rusty railing.

Zorya was actually quite a beautiful planet, a vibrant jungle...which made the Eldfell-Ashland refinery with its ugly steel tower and rusty walls stand out in stark contrast, an ugly blot of civilization in an otherwise wild planet. Not that Miranda minded human colonization, quite the opposite, but some companies had no appreciation for aesthetics.

She had protested the mission right from the start, not _vehemently_, but it had struck her as a waste of time...

Though Michael had gone through with it anyway, partly to get the mission the Illusive man had promised Zaeed over with, which Miranda could understand, and also...she suspected...to show Grunt that there indeed _was_ fighting to be had. And _yes_, Miranda understood that there was no rush to get Jack from Purgatory...so she had accepted the choice of helping Zaeed...

By now she was bitterly regretting that.

It had all gone well until their initial confrontation with Vido...where first Zaeed, then Michael, had more or less snapped...and things had only escalated since then.

Zaeed's jaw was still red from the punch...and the man was shooting Michael hateful glares...glares the commander was returning in kind as they pushed through the refinery whose very walls were coming apart as explosion after explosion tore through the refinery.

To open the gates by causing critical damage to the refinery had been foolish of Zaeed, dangerous...and he had very much _deserved_ the following punch. Not that Michael was _helping_ things, what Zaeed had done was foolish, but it _had_ been done, so one would have to work with it. It was regrettable that the workers had to die in order to catch up with Vido...but it was the right choice, Zaeed's dedication to the mission was more important then the death of a couple of hundred workers when it came down to it.

Miranda had thought that Michael had begun to understand that, his willingness to interrogate the Vorcha had been a refreshing hint of practicality after all.

Yet he _hadn't_. He had ordered them to move in to save the _workers_! It was a foolish decision made by sentimentality, _not_ practicality, and Miranda had only held her tongue in order not to question his authority in front of the team.

_At least Grunt is enjoying himself_. Miranda dryly noted, shooting the Krogan a glance as it vaulted a large pipe, chuckling as he dropped right on top of a Blue Suns mercenary, crushing the screaming man under its weight before firing off a powerful blast of his shotgun into the chest of another.

Sighing, Miranda ducked behind the railing she was using for cover, several bursts of enemy fire coming her way impacting against it as she glanced around, noting Jacob and Mordin both hugging cover behind and to her right.

There was a _lot_ of enemy fire coming their way...the time they had spent helping the workers had given the enemy time to gather their numbers...and Miranda was starting to worry if Vido actually would _need_ to escape...

There was a crack of a firing sniper rifle...and Miranda turned her head to the left, finding Garrus standing up and aiming his rifle high as he reloaded. Shots whizzed around the Turian, some slamming against his failing shield...but the man ignored them as his eyes narrowed at the scope...and then the rifle once more fired.

There was a thump...and sudden rush of hot air accompanied by a blast that made the ground shake even _further_.

Then screams, _lots_ of them.

Whirling around and out of cover Miranda tracked her pistol round...and saw a dozen mercenaries stumble around to her left, their bodies nothing but flailing torches as whatever Garrus had made explode burnt through armour and flesh...

Two seconds later...and the flailing mercenaries crumpled, nothing but ash remaining of them.

_Well_..._that_ _changed_ _the_ _odds_. "Forward!" Miranda vaulted the railing, _feeling_ rather then seeing Mordin and Jacob at her heels as they advanced.

A human appeared out of the smoke on the left of the burnt mercenaries...only to fall with an explosion of gore from his helmet. _That Turian is useful, I give him that_...

Ahead Zaeed and Michael were quite literally _tearing_ their way through their opponents. Their faces twisted into masks of rage as they rushed the enemy behind their cover.

It was short and brutal.

Two men came out of cover to fire...only to find Michael and Zaeed right in front of them. The one before Michael found the butt of Michael's rifle smashing into his jaw, sending him flying back with a crack of bones breaking. Zaeed's own rifle-butt came down onto the top of the other's helmet, smashing his face into the railing with a loud crunch and a scream.

The others shouted out in alarm, scrambling to defend themselves...but too late. The two men put a foot each on the railing, aimed down...and _poured_ shots into the mercenaries that had thought themselves safe behind it.

Grunt was not far behind, the Krogan chuckling as he stomped down on the back of a mercenary trying to get away...and then firing a round into the man's skull.

Miranda shot a thankful glance back at Garrus, the Turian still standing behind his cover as he fired round after round into foes now _routing _after the explosion and the violent assault._ Not bad for a Turian_...

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"No!" Zaeed roared the word, the mercenary's rifle jerking up to aim at the gunship as it flew away...too armoured and too distant to harm.

Lowering her pistol Miranda watched silently, worry creeping up on her as she saw Zaeed's eyes twitch, his teeth baring into a snarl...before he whirled about to glare at Michael.

_Dammit_!

Raising her pistol Miranda took aim at the mercenary as he targeted Michael...a Michael completely ignoring Zaeed as he reached back and drew the missile launcher strapped to his back.

"You just cost me _twenty_ years of my _life_!" Zaeed snarled, teeth bared in a feral snarl.

Miranda moved closer to Michael, making sure to show Zaeed she was keeping him in her sights...but judging by the mad glint in the mercenary's eyes he didn't care, his gaze _fixed_ upon Michael, angry and accusing...and rightfully so.

_This cannot end well_...

Michael continued to ignore the mercenary though, the missile launcher aiming up...and Michael's eyes narrowing as he took aim.

_He can't possibly think himself able to actually hit it from_...

A whoosh...and the missile shot out of the launcher and arched forward, quickly catching up to the gunship... For a moment it looked like it would strike the distant target head on...only for the target to veer to the side as the missile exploded.

A jerk...and black smoke suddenly poured out of the engine on the end of the gunship's left wing.

Zaeed lowered his rifle at the sound of the blast...then whirled about to stare as the gunship shuddered and dropped in altitude.

Michael was lowering his missile launcher...the man's gaze calm as he regarded Zaeed's back, his mouth a thin line.

Ahead the gunship spun, part of the wing coming off it as more smoke appeared...before with a final thump of something breaking it started a violent descent towards the waiting jungle.

A distant crash...and it was gone.

Silence.

Then Zaeed turned, a perplexed look on his face as he stared at Michael...a Michael now placing his missile launcher back in its place as he regarded Zaeed with a calm look on his face, his _tone_ however, was _angry_. "There, you have your Vido, he's out there, go get him."

Silence.

Zaeed arched a confused eyebrow. "What?"

"Go ahead, find your revenge, since your _needs_ apparently come ahead of the _mission_." Michael snarled, the calm look suddenly turning to one of fury as he stepped closer, staring the scared veteran in the eyes. "I don't need the likes of yours, so go."

_What_!

Miranda bit her tongue, holding her protest even as Zaeed took a step closer, eyes narrowing at the commander as he jabbed a finger into Michael's chest. "Listen here you little shit, I told you, the important thing is _Vido_! When he's dead you will have me!"

"No, you told me we were to _save_ the refinery and _people_ there, _then_ you _changed_ your mind." Michael retorted, not backing down. "That is _not_ how I work! And I will _not_ have such a risk on my team! So go out, kill Vido and then go back to whatever hole you crawled out of, we're through."

_Oh_...

Miranda blinked, actually _impressed_, she didn't like to loose a man...but Michael _did_ have a point.

He began to turn...only for Zaeed to grab his arm, the mercenary's gaze intent. "Are you insane! You _need_ me!"

Michael didn't reply at first, the man coldly looking back at Zaeed...then down at his arm...and the mercenary let go. Michael's tone was as calm as it was final. "I will do without."

A growl escaped Zaeed...but faded as the man shot a glance back at the jungle...before with a grunt of irritation he turned and began to walk after his quarry.

Miranda swiftly moved to Michael's side as he too moved...but towards the rendezvous. "He's the best mercenary out there and useful commander, are you sure-"

Michael's cold look silenced her...a look that suddenly turned wry. "Just wait..."

_Huh_!

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The interior of the shuttle was quiet save the distant hum of engines.

Turning her head to the left Miranda saw Jacob and Mordin calmly sit in their seats. The human's gaze was distant, half a smile on his face, the man no doubt approving of Michael's decision to help the workers. The alien was difficult to judge...but Miranda thought it looked a bit impatient.

Opposite them the Krogan and Turian sat. The Krogan was grinning down at a Blue Suns' helmet in his flexing hand...Miranda was just happy there was no head in it. The Turian on the other hand was resting his hands on the rifle in his lap...his head leaning back against the wall as he quietly _slept_.

_Turians_...

Miranda looked over to Michael, the man sitting opposite her...and looking at the floor with a strangely patient look.

Miranda opened her mouth for the question...only for the com to beep, making Michael raise a hand to stop her as the other press against his helmet.

Zaeed's voice crackled through the com. "Shepard...I..."

Michael's nodded, looking pleased. "Zaeed? What is it?"

"Fuck." Came the growl.

"Talk to me."

Silence.

Then Zaeed muttered. "I...have been thinking..." _Fascinating_. Miranda rolled her eyes...yet continued to listen as Zaeed spoke. "...I was walking after Vido and thinking about what to do next, find a ship and...all that..."

Silence was all that greeted Zaeed's words.

"And...shit Shepard, I'm an _old_ man...I need those credits...revenge...won't taste good if it leaves me stuck working for a fucking thirty more years..."

Silence.

Then Michael shrugged. "And the mission?"

"It...I will focus on it...Commander." Zaeed spoke the words...and it sounded like pulling teeth.

He _did_ say them however.

Michael looked up...and smirked at Miranda. "Tell the shuttle to turn around."

Miranda nodded, surprised...but pleased. "Yes, Commander."

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_Thanks to Abydos Jackson for her caring._


	19. Chapter 19

_Is_ _this_..._food_?

Garrus arched a brow at the dish before him, the fork in his hand gingerly poking at the pieces of what he _hoped_ to be meat covered in a dark brown sauce...it did _not_ look enticing.

Not that Garrus was all that hungry. Every time he sat down in the dinning hall of the Normandy he was reminded of his old team, how they had sat and joked and cajoled with one another as they made plans over their meagre rations...

Nowadays...he found himself sitting alone, surrounded by humans who were more or less strangers to him.

_Alone_...

Garrus sighed, giving the food before him a sad look, he had _hoped_ Michael would have been around to eat with him...for some companionship, some humour and talk...something to _distract_ him from remembering what had been _lost_, what _he_ had lost.

Without that distraction...the food would only taste of ash and regret.

Shrugging Garrus took a piece and put it into his mouth, chewing dutifully, satisfied that at least the regret stopped him from truly tasting it.

Glancing up he found a few passing personnel look away, making him frown. It wasn't that the people were being rude...in fact he had found them _surprisingly_ polite and professional with him, _despite_ them being Cerberus, but they weren't friendly either...they seemed to _respect_ him, _accept_ him...but there was nothing more there.

He shot the mess sergeant a glance, but found the man busy stirring a pot. That man had been the _only_ one that had shot Garrus as much as a disapproving frown...and to be fair Garrus had expected far worse when he had accepted Michael's request for help.

In fact there were more _positive_ meetings with the Cerberus personnel then _bad_ ones. Joker was a given positive, however frustrating the man could be at times, as was doctor Chakwas...however motherly she was at times. The two engineers a deck below were also friendly, in fact Garrus even thought the two _admired_ him for his part in the hunt for Saren. And then there was of course Miss Chambers...

Garrus grimaced. The woman was friendly, kind, and helpful...and clearly doing her job as a psychiatrist as she had come around to talk to him the first time. It had been...awkward...and Garrus had made excuses and left as soon as possible. Not that that had helped...quite the opposite...the human seemed _intent_ on hounding him and _talking_ to him...as if _words_ would somehow make his failure better.

He _appreciated_ the thought...but wanted nothing to do with it...in fact he was _fervently_ praying the woman wouldn't find him during meal-times where there was no escape.

He took another dutiful bite out of his meal, fervently trying to distract himself from memories of his old team by thinking of the new...

The team itself was so far a bit small...but Garrus liked what he saw.

Jacob had struck him as a solid soldier, one who wanted to get things _done_...a man after Garrus' own heart..._if_ he could get those principles of his under control.

Miranda...well...she was about as nice to have around as ice glued to your crotch...but she _did_ get results...with a minimum of casualties and fuss no less. So Garrus had resolved to ignore the woman's cold demeanour and remain positive about her being with them, spirits knew Michael needed a _competent_ second in command...

_No_. _Don't_ _think_ _about_ _it_. Garrus' mandibles clicked together in annoyance as he forced the image of the dead away._ I should have_..._no_! _Don't_ _think_ _about_ _it_! He shook it off.

Mordin was...a slippery character. Obviously STG the Salarian's babbling revealed a sharp if a loose intellect that Garrus had _no_ intention of trying to understand. Yet there was something..._off_ about the man, not exactly _guilt_, Garrus could sniff such things out by virtue of decades of experience by now...but an internal tension that made Garrus' claws twitch.

As to Grunt...

A crash...and Garrus looked up in time to see Grunt seating himself opposite the Turian, the chair beneath creaking in protest and drawing dozens of glances, glances the Krogan ignored as with an annoyed glare he looked down at the red meat on his large tray.

_Oh_..._you_..._great_...

The Krogan reminded Garrus far too well of Garm...and just about every Krogan mercenary back at Omega. Large, stupid and brutal in equal measures. _Perfect Krogan, my ass_... Garrus wasn't sure, it was a while ago since he'd seen his friend after all...but Grunt actually struck him as _larger_ then Wrex had been...

_Not in terms of brain-power though_. Garrus noted as the Krogan before him reached down and pulled up a large stake and shovelled it into his mouth as if it was nothing but a cookie...and swallowing it whole. _Ah, chewing is for suckers_..._I_ _see_...

He looked back to his food, partly because the sight of Grunt eating would ruin what little appetite Garrus _had_...and partly because he didn't want to get stuck in a staring contest, when it came to Krogan you couldn't win those, either you looked away...or they got angry and bit your head off.

_I miss Wrex_...

Garrus shook the thought aside, knowing it would only lead to more regret and guilt...it was one of those things he and Michael seemed to share. Since that first conversation where they had spoken of the funeral and such...the past never came up that much except for the odd joke. It...wasn't something they wanted to think about too much, to remind themselves of what had been lost.

"Garrus, wasn't it?" The Krogan's voice invaded Garrus' thoughts...and the Turian wasn't sure if he was supposed to be grateful or annoyed with the prospect of having a conversation with this brutal creature.

_Maybe he'll surprise me_... Garrus held back a sigh and looked back up, meeting those large blue eyes of Grunt's. "Yeah, and you're Grunt."

"You did good back at that factory." The Krogan grunted, pushing another steak into his maw. _And there went my appetite_..._great_. "A bit of a sissy way to fight...but can't argue with explosions eh?" The Krogan grinned at Garrus...

Who looked back, unimpressed. "I got a lot of kills yes...it's the way I fight."

"Not one to take on the foe up close, got it." Grunt nodded, shrugging. "Takes all kind, eh?"

_What's your point_! Garrus mimicked the Krogan's shrug. "I am quite good at hand to hand as well, but I prefer to fight at longer ranges when in actual _combat_."

"Good, leave that to the _tougher_ ones." The Krogan chuckled, jabbing a clawed thumb into his chest.

_Or maybe he __won't__ surprise me_... "Uh-hu..." Garrus looked back to his meal, not in the least eager to eat, but the sooner he was done the sooner he could _leave_. He took another bite into his mouth and chewed, as fast as was _possible_ given the gristle of the meat...and shot the mess sergeant a glare.

Silence.

"You know..." _Here_ _we_ _go_. "...I'm supposed to hate Turians."

Garrus glanced up at the Krogan, finding a peculiar look on Grunt's face, something between a smirk and a puzzled look. "Is that a threat...or an observation?"

"Huh?" Grunt cocked his head to the side. "No, I just mean that Okeer tried to implant impressions into me...hatred of Turians, how to twist the arm off a Quarian the proper way, stuff like that...but his words are hollow."

"So...an observation." Garrus sighed. "But this isn't a problem, because you don't."

"No." Grunt retorted, then grimaced. "Feels like I should though, like a _proper_ Krogan."

"Not all Krogan hate Turians." Garrus replied, shaking his head at Grunt. "You can't use Okeer's opinions as a point of reference..." He sighed at the sight of the Krogan's confused look. "...just because Okeer _says_ something doesn't make it _so_."

"Ah." Grunt nodded. "But Krogan and Turians have fought so many battles..."

"Old history." Garrus shrugged it aside. "Besides, I, a _Turian_, have fought alongside the _Krogan_ Urdnot Wrex himself during our hunt for Saren, another Turian...race isn't everything."

"Wrex..." The Krogan seemed to taste the name. "There are several implants of him...admired, strong...a powerful Krogan."

_And__ he had more then two brain-cells to rub together_... Garrus didn't say anything, hoping against all odds that that was enough of the inane conversation. Grunt was a powerful ally and all that...but considering his 'birth' perhaps Garrus shouldn't be surprised to find the Krogan childish.

"Not as powerful as _me_, but I was grown to perfection."

Garrus' gaze flicked up at the words, eyes narrowing. "That's easy to say here, when he's not around to show you otherwise, I know for a _fact_ Wrex wouldn't appreciate someone speaking like that of him."

"It _is_ a fact." Grunt retorted, shrugging. "Can't help what I am...I was grown to perfection, that makes me stronger then Wrex."

Garrus interlocked his claws atop the table, looking evenly at Grunt as he felt a stab of irritation shoot through his gut. "Really? You didn't even _exist_ back when Wrex was waging war on Tuchanka, when he stabbed his own father, not even back when he began to try and unite the Krogan clans again...back then you were nothing but a test-tube."

"What's your point?" The Krogan grunted, looking irritated.

"That you've been out of your tank, what, a week now? And you think you can compare yourself to _Wrex_?" Garrus shook his head, scowling at the Krogan. "Don't even try, I've seen you both fight, and Wrex is a _friend_ of mine...a man I know won't have a little _kid_ claim he's better then him."

Grunt shifted where he sat, eyes narrowing as he leant forward, voice a low growl: "Be careful with what you say, Turian..."

Garrus merely scoffed. "You don't scare me. I've faced down _thousands_ of Geth beside Wrex, we've killed Asari Commandos, thresher maws and waged a campaign that ended with the death of a machine with near_ god-like_ powers..."

Grunt hesitated.

And Garrus pressed the issue. "Wrex has killed more Krogan, Geth and Asari then you have. He has done _far_ more, not _just_ for himself, but for the galaxy and the Krogan people, than you can imagine. So _don't_ compare yourself to him."

"I have it in me to do more than that." Grunt retorted, somewhat meekly for a Krogan.

"Potential does _not_ equal deeds." Garrus snorted. "You say you're the perfect Krogan? I say you're just another tank-bred clone who has done _nothing_ of substance yet. What's perfection worth when it's the _only_ thing you can claim?"

Grunt's face twitched.

For a frightful moment it looked like the Krogan would lunge at Garrus in a rage...

Then there was a small scoff, the Krogan's head turning as he looked down at the table, scowling at it. "That is...interesting...I have to think about that."

_Huh_... Garrus arched a brow, looking at the Krogan, for the first time surprised by the Krogan's reaction. "I didn't expect that."

"I am tank-bred, _all_ is new to me...I hold no expectations for the next _hour_." Grunt retorted, still frowning at the table. "I have done nothing..." The words were a rumbled whisper. "...but those before me...they...hmmm..." Whatever the Krogan was thinking...he didn't look all that pleased with the conclusion.

Suddenly worried he'd sabotaged Michael and his effort to keep the Krogan under control Garrus quickly said. "At least there'll be plenty of opportunities to do great things with us against the Collectors..."

"Yeah..." Grunt nodded absently, a clawed hand coming up to scratch his chin even as he continued to stare at the table with a puzzled frown on his face. "...yeah..."

Garrus shrugged, returning to his meal as best he could as he re-evaluated the Krogan. _Maybe not a complete moron after all_...

His thoughts were interrupted by the feeling of hands suddenly on his shoulders, giving them a squeeze as miss Chambers' ever so cheerful voice called out. "_There_ you are! I've been looking for you!"

_Oh for_..._is there__ no one__ else with emotional baggage that you can bother_! Garrus' head dropped as he stabbed his fork into the food, his voice a weary sigh: "Hello, Miss Chambers..."

"Didn't I tell you to call me Kelly?" The woman responded, dropping down on a chair next to him, _uninvited_. "Sooo...how you've been?"

And Garrus looked over at Grunt, suddenly wanting _nothing_ more but to continue their conversation...

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_Thanks to Abydos Jackson for standing me._


	20. Chapter 20

Purgatory was _big_.

Michael didn't feel particular awed, he'd been face to face with a Reaper after all, but it was...surprising that such a massive station could exist in space, _solely_ with the purpose of housing criminals.

_Then again, __how__ many criminals have I met so far out here in the Terminus systems_?

Michael smirked at the thought, looking at the glassed ceiling above through which he could see the rest of the station stretching out...and suddenly thought the place perhaps was a bit too _small_.

Ahead the Blue Suns' 'security forces' waited...and Michael's smirk widened ever so slightly. _So we have criminals running a station_..._to house criminals_..._great idea_..._guess that gives easy access for new recruits_. _Hmmm_..._good I didn't bring Garrus or Zaeed, diplomacy isn't really their forte, nor is dealing with mercenaries in a __peaceful__ way_.

In fact Michael had barely brought anyone with him, it _was_ a prison after all...and a large armed entourage wouldn't really be prudent when it came to keeping things calm and smooth. Not to mention neither he nor Cerberus really had that good a relationship with the Blue Suns...it wasn't good to antagonize people that were neutral hostile at best.

So in the end, Michael had left all but Miranda and Grunt on the ship. Grunt would be useful in playing the muscled Krogan bodyguard...an insurance as much as a deterrent against any smart ideas of their host. _Not to mention he'd tear the Normandy apart if he missed a fight_...

Miranda...was more of a necessary evil. Personally Michael would have liked her back on the Normandy to keep command...she was better at that then _diplomacy_ that was for sure...but she was the only one with high enough security clearance within Cerberus to make the transfer of credits that would be required to take Jack out of cryo.

So instead, Michael had left Jacob in charge of the Normandy and those there. He'd _liked_ to have appointed Garrus...if nothing else but for a bit of nostalgia...but the man had tensed up in fright under Michael's mere _glance_ when he had pondered that...clearly the Turian wasn't willing to command any longer.

Michael's good mood soured, remembering from whence they had found his friend. _Can't blame him_..._I should get him drunk and talk about that_...

Ahead, the guards held their weapons at the ready, but didn't raise them. One of them, a Turian with brown facial plates lacking any markings – a bare-faced as the Turians called them...not a positive thing – stepped forward, eyeing Michael with a respectful, but not friendly, look. "Commander Shepard, welcome to Purgatory."

"Warden Kuril." Michael stopped a few feet away from the reception, offering a slight bow of his head, amused as he realised the warden was waiting at the _top_ of the few stairs ahead, no doubt to show dominance by looking down at Michael and the two with him. "Nice to meet you, you have a lovely home."

The Turian blinked, confounded...and Michael offered a smile. _Heh, this almost makes me miss the Council_..._almost_. "Thank you, Commander, it's...an efficient station, I am proud to run it."

"Good, one should be proud of what one does." Michael retorted, moving closer as he maintained the friendly smile. "Now, I'm sure you want me to relieve you of one of your guests?"

Michael held back the grimace at the casual question. He had...issues with the whole thing. The Illusive man had claimed that by buying the prisoner they weren't buying a _slave_, but in fact simply releasing her and then leaving it up to Michael to convince her to join the group...but such a convincing would probably involve showing that she _owed_ them...so what was the difference? Wasn't it bad enough that they were basically recruiting someone called a butcher and a monster by at least fifteen different governments? To compound that with making said person _resent_ them seemed...counter-productive.

No, Michael would do what he always did, he would offer a choice...and Jack would likely choose to leave. Was worth a shot though...and Michael had no issues with spending _Cerberus_' funds after all...

"Yes, as soon as your funds clear, of course." Kuril replied, gaze drifting to Miranda and her uniform...and she nodded to show there would be no issues. The Turian instantly looked back to Michael. "However, before we proceed...your weapons, please."

Michael's eyes narrowed in suspicion even as a feral growl escaped Grunt.

The warden didn't look impressed. "This _is_ a high security vessel, only guards are allowed weapons, for security reasons."

Silence greeted him.

_Blue Suns are not to be trusted, but they __do__ want to get paid_..._and betrayal won't net them any money_. Michael cocked his head to the side, unsure.

A sigh escaped Kuril, the man shifting where he stood as he regarded them. "If you do not wish to comply with our rules the exit is only a few feet back the other way...I can cope with losing a deal, but I will _not_ risk my life's work."

_Well_..._that_ _settles_ _it_. Michael shrugged...and casually tossed his pistol to the floor. "Your ship." Then his assault rifle. "Your rules." A smile...and the shotgun followed as weapon upon weapon dropped to the floor before him, creating a pile the guards eyed with something akin to fear. Grunt grumbled...but slowly followed suit even as Miranda with a toss of her head and a disinterested shrug dropped her own. "Though you could work on your hospitality, I've yet to be offered tea."

The warden arched a brow...but said nothing, warily watching the three before him. _Ah, humour's lost on him, is that a Turian thing or just an asshole thing_?

And then Michael only had the knife in his boot left...and held his arms out as he smirked at the Turian warden. "Happy now?"

"Yes." The Turian smiled, if only weakly. "You must excuse me, but as I said, it's a rule, no exceptions, no matter who's the guest." He stepped to the side, gesturing to the door behind him as it slid open. "Welcome to Purgatory, Shepard."

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"I must admit...you have an impressive facility." Michael noted. _For an extortion racket_. His tone was ever polite though as he followed Kuril down yet _another_ corridor sporting glassed walls, making it easy to look down at the various concrete halls that mainly contained guards. What few prisoners were there were being carefully guarded as they were led in short walks...before being led right back to their cells. It reminded Michael of a person walking their dog. "I have difficulty imagining anyone getting out."

"As you _should_." The Turian slowed down a little, looking at Michael with a steady gaze. "Escape attempts are rare and _always_ unsuccessful, and even if they did get out...where would they go? There's a reason I put this facility in space."

Michael nodded in understanding, glancing back to make sure the others were tagging along. Grunt was looking irritated and bored, the Krogan huffing as he glared out through the windows. Miranda, on the other hand, had her attention fixed upon Kuril's back...the woman looking a bit...on edge.

Michael couldn't blame her, he too didn't like that the tour was taking so long...or that they had to go so _far_ into the station to do the transfer, they were in the lion's den...and hoping that waving a steak around would help. And the silent tail of Blue Suns walking behind them all did _nothing_ to ease Michael's concern...

_Eh, if we die, we die_. Michael looked back to Kuril, smiling, it was good...not to fear death. "Do you sell a lot of prisoners? It strikes me as bad for business if these client planets of yours got wind of you selling what you're supposed to guard."

"When it happens we stop taking the fee from the criminal's home world..." _If you sell the prisoner_?_ Or if they find out_? "...along with an assurance that the prisoner will not be a problem for them any longer, those that buy the prisoners usually do so to personally kill them, you see." Kuril shrugged, obviously having no issue with it. "This transaction is a bit different in that aspect...but Cerberus pays a lot."

"You didn't say how many prisoners you sell." Miranda pointed out, her tone short and to the point...making Michael shoot her an irritated look. _Diplomacy,_ _woman_...!

Kuril didn't seem to mind though, or rather, his mood seemed unchanged in its cold politeness as he looked back at her. "You're right, I didn't. We are not inclined to give away such information."

Then he stopped at an intersection in the corridor, the rest of the group grounding to a halt as the man turned to his guests: "This is where we part ways, I will make sure Jack is prepared for transport, and if you'll proceed down this corridor to my accountant, he'll make sure your credits are paid..." His eyes narrowed in suspicion as they darted to Miranda. "...properly."

"We have no intent to deceive." Miranda calmly replied with a curt bow of her head.

For some reason Kuril found that funny, a small snort escaping him as he looked away. "We'll see." A nod down the corridor ahead. "Keep following this corridor, it's not far and you can't miss it." Then a nod to Michael, short and quick. "Shepard."

And then Kuril was striding away, looking eager to get away from his guests...and Michael arched a curious brow. _Okay_..._my_ _jedi_ _senses_ _are_ _tingling_... He kept his face calm though as he turned to the others, shrugging. "Guess we're going that way, then?"

Kuril was right, it wasn't far...but nor was it what Michael expected.

The room they had just entered was surprisingly large, a few empty desks ahead making it look like something akin to a large reception area, something one might use to strip prisoners before they were moved into...

Michael stiffened, suddenly _very_ aware of the guards behind him...of the soft _buzz_ that emanated from them...the buzz of a stun-baton.

Michael spun counter-clockwise, left hand closing around a wrist as the thrust of the mercenary behind him missed...and slammed the palm of his right hand into the helmet of the human, the servos in Michael's armour turning it into a sledgehammer that punched right through the visor and drew a strangled gasp as the blow smashed the bridge of the man's nose upwards with a crunch...

The mercenary instantly collapsed, his baton ending up in Michael's left hand.

Miranda had also sensed the imminent attack, she _too_ spinning counter-clockwise and capturing the wrist of her foe...only to _continue_ spinning as her right hand gripped onto the upper arm of her opponent as she _twisted_...and threw him over her shoulder. A shout of alarm..turned into a _scream_ of _agony_ as Miranda put a boot against his shoulder and twisted his arm around with a savage wrench.

Grunt on the other hand grumbled in annoyance, the Krogan turning to face the guard behind him as the Turian slammed his stun-baton into the Krogan's arm over and over, the blasts of light accompanied by no reaction from the Krogan...besides an angry growl as the 'incapacitated' arm rose...

The mercenary tried to get away...only to be thrown into the wall with tremendous force as Grunt swatted the man aside with what almost looked like an annoyed _slap_.

There was a second line of guards though...and they raised their rifles, not taking any chances.

Michael's shield flared...and then he pushed his foe's rifle to the side before smashing his baton through the visor of the attacking Turian.

The one opposite Miranda didn't even get a shot off. The man having stared at her taking down his friend with something akin to _wonder_...only to have his rifle kicked out of his hands before she spun on her heel and viciously kicked him in the chest, sending him a good eight feet backwards before he crashed to the floor with a gasp.

Grunt's foe unleashed a barrage of shots into the chest of the Krogan...shots casually ignored as the chuckling creature reached out, grabbed the man by the head with both hands...and _twisted_. A crack...and the man was dead.

_And_ _now_ _we're_ _armed_.

Michael grinned, assault rifle now in his hands moving to target the rest of their guards...only to find them scamper into cover. Oh...right. "Get to cover!" Heeding his own advice he double-timed it backwards, quickly leaping over the first desk before taking up a firing position, barely aware of Grunt and Miranda coming up next to him as he opened the communicator. "Joker, this is Shepard, we need...Joker?"

The com crackled into life...only for Michael to hear _Kuril's_ voice. "Don't bother, I have a team moving in on them right now." _Ahhh_..._shit_. "And I also have enough guards to beat even _you_ Shepard, make it easy on yourself and proceed into the cell and I'll forget you put up a fight."

"You know...your hospitality was bad enough when I didn't get the tea...now it's just _atrocious_." Michael retorted, refusing to be intimidated by some two-bit kidnapper...and the silence following his answer was telling. "And nope...can't really see myself surrendering."

"Good." Grunt chuckled even as Miranda nodded in silent agreement.

"You will regret this later..." Kuril growled. "You're worth a _fortune_ alive...but dead will work too."

"I'm really intimidated over here, _shaking_..." Michael replied, rolling his eyes. _What is it with bad guys and their crappy monologues_? "Bring it, I'm right here."

A clanking noise was all the answer he got, a _repeated _clanking noise..._marching_.

And far ahead...he saw it...a solid _mass_ off security mechs slowly marching towards the group, the weapons of those in the front rank lining up their shots even as the column of machines moved forth to squash the defenders through sheer _numbers_, a _lot_ of numbers...

Michael found himself blinking.

_Maybe I should have closed my big mouth_...

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_Thanks to Abydos Jackson for her dedication._


	21. Chapter 21

Joker was being an ass.

Not that it _surprised_ Garrus all that much...but he still found himself scowling at the pilot as the man loudly broke wind into his seat...making Garrus cross his arms over his chest in annoyance. "Is this when you're being professional?"

"Relax, would you? You'll get a heart attack one of these days if you don't." Joker retorted with a grunt as he leant back in his seat.

"Turians don't _get_ heart attacks."

"Yeah...well...whatever you guys get when you're wound so tightly it's a wonder you can take a shit."

A frustrated growl escaped Garrus as he narrowed his eyes at the human. _Impossible_..._pilot_!

"Are you two...always like this?" Jacob muttered the question, the man opposite Garrus in the cockpit as they flanked Joker and his idleness.

Joker chuckled. "Nah, two years ago I could actually _frustrate_ Garrus here."

Garrus' mandible twitched.

Only for him to look up as EDI's hologram suddenly appeared. "Commander Taylor, I have detected an energy surge in Purgatory systems." _Eh_? "I took the liberty of checking and communications with Shepard are cut."

_What_!

Garrus and Jacob both took a step forth, eyes wide as Joker stared at the hologram in shock. "Are you sure? Or are you just messing with me because of what I did with your camera?"

The hologram looked back at the pilot, the synthetic voice droll. "I would never 'mess' with you about such a thing." The hologram turned back to Jacob. "I'm now in their security system..." _Already_! "...have located the Commander, he and his team are pinned down within chamber D-fifty-six, Purgatory security mechs and personnel are currently forcing him and his team backwards. I have also located two dozen heavily armed security personnel heading for our airlock...detecting several shaped charges, predicting they'll use them to breach our doors."

Silence.

Garrus looked over to Jacob, finding the man staring at the hologram with wide eyes, not having expected such news.

_We need to move, we should_..._no_...

Garrus looked away, shame and uncertainty stopping the words he wanted to say from escaping his mouth.

"So...shit hit the fan?" Joker quipped, making Garrus shoot him an angry glare.

"Right..." Jacob finally nodded, taking a deep breath. "Send out the call and rally the team, we'll repel these sons of bitches and then go get Shepard."

"That's...a plan." Garrus noted, grimacing. _Maybe_..._no_..._I_ _shouldn't_..._I_..._dammit_..._it's_..._it's_ _just_ _a_ _suggestion_, _yes_, _a_ _suggestion_... "Perhaps...not taking on the entire base head on...would be good? I mean...we only want Shepard right?" _Please_ _li_..._no_..._don't_ _listen_..._I_ _don't_... Garrus' plates itched, an unfamiliar nervousness digging into his gut.

_Dammit_...

Jacob nodded, hesitating. "EDI, how many mercenaries does Purgatory have?"

"Their personnel outnumbers our ground team forty-five point three to one, discounting non-combat personnel they-"

"Right." Jacob interrupted with a sigh. "Can you release us from this docking? We'll try to enter another way..."

"Purgatory docking clamps hacked...releasing us." EDI replied. _Huh_... Garrus arched a brow, impressed. "I also took the liberty of hacking Purgatory outer defences, their turrets are now offline."

"You can do that?" Garrus found the question escaping him before he could stop it. He hadn't talked much to the...well..._computer_...and hadn't been particularly keen on it being there at _all_...but he was rapidly learning...not to _like_ it perhaps...but at least to respect it. "That quickly?"

"I am a computer, I work faster then any organic." EDI replied, the tone lacking any judgement, despite the implied insult._ Perhaps it doesn't even understand it to __be__ an insult_...? "Purgatory has cut corners, their computers do _not_ have military level security."

"Would that stop you?"

A minuscule pause, as if the computer was shrugging. "For a few minutes."

"Right, interesting." Jacob nodded in as much disinterest as it was impatience. "But we need a plan, an entryway..."

"Viable attack sites located." EDI instantly replied, as if having expected the question, or perhaps the mere moments of him speaking the words were _enough_... _That's_..._a_ _little_ _creepy_. "May I suggest burning your way into hallway thirty-two-B? It is close to Shepard's location and will avoid the majority of currently deployed Purgatory troops."

Jacob blinked, then nodded. "Sure, we'll take the shuttle while you and Joker put the Normandy at a safe distance, ready to go in guns blazing if things go wrong. Can you hack back communications with Shepard?"

"Unfortunately they have damaged Shepard's own communication gear with their hacking attack, I cannot repair it."

_So synchronising with him is out the window_..._well I guess something had to go wrong_. Garrus snorted. "Oh well, guess we'll have some fun then, but damn, that's a lot of mercenaries between us and Michael..." He didn't _dare_ suggest it...

Fortunately Jacob came to the conclusion himself. "Yeah...we need a distraction."

"I have a suggestion..." EDI said, voice almost hesitant. "...though I am unsure if the risk is worth it...I do not have the programming to judge."

"Well, what _are_ you saying?" Jacob asked, his foot tapping on the floor in impatience._ Yeah, I want to go rescue them too_..._but we need a_..._no_..._you're not in command Garrus_..._you shouldn't be either_.

None seemed to notice Garrus' sagging shoulders as EDI replied. "I have gained access to many interior systems of Purgatory; only core functions are out of my reach. Those systems under my control include the riot control systems, which I can disable. I can also..." A pause, the computer actually _hesitating_. "...open the doors to all the cells in the station."

"Absolutely not." Garrus growled before he knew what he was doing, surprising even himself.

The others looked at him in surprise, Jacob carefully replying. "It _would_ be a distraction..."

Garrus shook his head, grimacing. "They are criminals, the lot of them, if we let them out they'll go back into society and wreak _havoc_...it's against _everything_ I stand for!"

"Erm...you're forgetting..." Joker cocked an amused eyebrow at the Turian. "...we're in _space_...there's nowhere to go, we're the _only_ ship here and we'll only pick up _one_ prisoner..._if_ we even find the biotic nut-case."

"That is not the point." Garrus snarled, crossing his arms over his face as he felt his scar burn, burn with the pain a _criminal_ caused. "This is about _principles_!" His right hand moved up, jabbing a sharp claw at his injury to show his dedication to them even as he glared at the pilot.

Joker looked away, unable to meet Garrus' gaze.

Silence.

Then Jacob spoke, voice soft. "Would you sacrifice _Shepard_ for the sake of upholding those principles...?"

_I_..._great_.

Garrus sighed, the anger instantly fading, draining him as he shook his head and looked down at his feet. The answer was obvious, however painful it was to admit...some things were worth _more_ then _everything_ he'd given so much to uphold. He shot Jacob a sad look. "No."

"Good." Jacob turned back to EDI. "Do it, open the gates, it'll be a distraction the purgatory personnel won't soon forget. We'll enter through your suggested attack site as you and Joker ready for extraction or attack, depending on our success."

_A sound plan_...

Garrus looked up. Through the windscreen he could see Purgatory looming as the Normandy backed away, the prison already showing something was wrong as several of its windows lit up with explosions.

Then he found a sad smile appear on his face.

_Michael, I'm going to kill you for this_...

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With a final creak the the ceiling of the corridor gave way, the round circle they had burnt into it giving way and letting the circle-shaped steel plate drop down onto the floor with a loud crash.

A moment later Zaeed and Garrus both dropped down through the hole as planned, facing away from one another as, kneeling, they took aim down both ends of the corridor with readied assault rifles, ready to cover the rest of the team as they deployed.

There were no targets in Garrus' aim though, his gaze darting left and right as he took in the architecture._ Wide corridor, amply lit, supporting columns on each side makes for good cover, however_.

Already he could hear shouts of alarm, the sound of running feet and firing weapons as the riot they'd unleashed upon Purgatory spread like a wildfire through the station; the stench of ozone and burnt flesh tickling his nose.

_Can't believe I'm partly responsible for this_... Garrus gritted his teeth, brow furrowing as he _hoped_ for one of the rioting criminals to stumble into his scope.

Then Zaeed shouted. "On your six!"

Garrus swiftly turned, still on one knee as he took aim...and not a second too late.

At Zaeed's end the corridor was turning to the left...and at the corner Garrus saw a flash of blue as six Purgatory guards came running.

The men didn't even notice the team before them before they were right in the open.

Garrus heard the rest of the team drop into the corridor behind him...even as the vindicator rifle in his hands jerked with a burst. The first shot caught his target high in the chest, the second two striking his throat...before the final two thumped into the man's visor.

He instantly crumpled.

Zaeed's target, a Turian judging by his armoured form...actually managed to stumble backwards...only to fall as his knee gave in as Zaeed's Avenger poured shots into it...and then opened the Turian's back with an explosion of blue blood.

The remaining four slid to an instant halt, two leaping into the cover of the columns lining the corridor even as Garrus and Zaeed did the same...as the other two turned to run.

One fell before he could take a step, screaming as a hazy orb of orange light struck him...only to set him aflame, Mordin's attack swiftly eating through armour and flesh with equal ease.

The other took a step away, then spun as a shot took him in the shoulder...before a blue laser dot appeared on his chest. Jacob's obscenely large pistol barked thrice...and the man before him died, breastplate and ribs smashed apart by the heavy calibre bullets. _Got to get me one of those_...

The two that had leapt into cover moved to take aim back at the team...only to scream in alarm as they whirled about to face the other way.

Too late.

Before Garrus' stunned eyes a blur of men and women clothed in nothing but brown _rags_ came rushing forth...

_Prisoners_.

The Turian guard managed to bring his shotgun to bear, blowing the abdomen apart of the woman rushing at him...even as the human guard cried out as half a dozen prisoners pounced upon him, their faces twisting up in glee as they released what had to be years of pent up hatred upon the man, their fists and feet beating the man into the floor and against the column, crushing him within his armour through the sheer number of blows.

The Turian screamed in rage...the shotgun barking out again, tearing the arm off one of those beating his friend into nothing but a bloody smear...only for his scream to turn to one of _panic_ as another prisoner leapt upon him.

It was a _large_ human...whose hands were like _paws_ as they grabbed the Turian's helmet and wrenched it away. With a roar of hatred the man grabbed the panicking Turian by the mandibles...and tore them off. The Turian screamed in pain...and then _agony_ as with a snarl the human stabbed the sharper ends of the mandibles into the Turian's eyes...

_Sick_... Garrus took aim...and the monster of a human fell, unarmoured head blown apart by Garrus' shots.

Garrus' had _heard_ of the brutality of Purgatory guards...but as he saw the prisoners looking up from their lynching, eyes mad with unrelenting hatred...he couldn't blame them.

_Filthy monsters_...

Another burst...and one of the Batarian prisoners fell even as the rest rushed forth with a roar...

Only for them all to stumble, a push of biotic power filling the corridor between the two groups...making the prisoners grind to a halt...and then for the first row to fall as Jacob, still aglow with the release of biotic energy, fired off a round from his shotgun into the tightly packed group.

Zaeed wasn't late to take advantage, the mercenary not letting off the trigger as he sprayed shots into the prisoners. Unarmoured, they fell in _droves_...and Mordin's quick firing of his pistol combined with Garrus' own bursts from his Vindicator almost felt unnecessary as they culled the horde to nothing.

Behind them a prisoner was lingering back though, a man with a near balding head, a mad glint in his eyes and nothing but skin and bones...but hefting a shotgun pried from the dead Turian guard.

He was _staring_ at the slaughter...and seemed to be _enjoying_ it...eyes wide with _glee_, mouth hanging open, _hungry_...

Garrus drew a bead on him...only for the human to laugh aloud as he began running back from whence he'd come, shotgun barking as he fired round after round into the ceiling, helping in tearing apart an already damaged station...

_Is this a prison or an insane asylum_! Garrus shook his head as he rose to his feet, quickly reloading his hissing rifle. "Who votes for following the madman?"

Zaeed chuckled. "Which one? Two minutes of freedom and these idiots are already tearing apart the only thing between them and _space_."

Garrus shot Zaeed an amused look. "Personally I think they're doing the galaxy a favour that way."

"Agreed." The human nodded, then shrugged. "Though I'd like it if we weren't _on_ the station when that happens."

"Then we better get moving." Jacob cut in, the human marching forth with his shotgun at the ready. "Move out."

Garrus nodded in agreement, moving to follow.

_We're coming, Michael_...

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_Thanks to Abydos Jackson, as there will always be._


	22. Chapter 22

_Well_..._we're_ _winning_.

That was about the extent of the positive things Michael could come up with as he, Grunt and Miranda pushed forth through yet another corridor, more or less lost by now in the maze that was Purgatory. Their navigation wasn't helped by some corridors having been sealed off by rubble or unchecked fires...and the odd flood of insane prisoners.

They _had_ actually been sorely pressed by the large amount of mechs and mercenaries Kuril had thrown at them...only for that surge of enemies to suddenly slow, and then completely stop.

Grunt had been a bit disappointed...but Michael found that to be a small price to pay compared to being locked up in a small space together with Miss bitch-a-lot and a Krogan with aggression issues.

There was also a sweet justice in taking Kuril's plan and shoving it up...what had he called it...his life's work? _Not_ _his_ _ass_..._but_ _then_ _again_ _I have yet to find the bastard, things can be_..._arranged_. Michael hefted his assault rifle with a pleased grin.

However, Michael wasn't all that happy with not knowing _why_ they were winning. His communicator held nothing but static for him and any attempts of getting a good viewpoint of the place had been in vain since almost every twist and turn yielded an encounter with a group of armed guards...or worse..._armed_ _prisoners_.

_Whoever let them out deserves my foot up their ass_... Michael grumbled. He didn't doubt that their release had been responsible for the guards and such easing back from him, and as such he _should_ be grateful...but by now he'd had too many close calls with those maniacs to appreciate their unwitting assistance.

Ahead, an explosion rocked the corridor, black smoke bellowing from the wall to the left as it broke apart, three men in rags stumbling out. One crying out in victory as he raised a steel rod smeared in blue blood, his other arm dragging the broken body of a Turian guard behind.

Michael fired...and the arm came off in a shower of crimson blood as the other two turned to face the new threat. With a snort, Grunt fired his shotgun...and the second man, slow to raise his pistol, came apart as the blast tore through his chest.

The third screamed something incoherently, primed a grenade suddenly in his hands...and ran right at them.

_See, this is why I __hate__ insane people_! Michael took a step back, aim moving towards the danger...

And then Miranda took a step forward, her body aglow with biotic power...and the prisoner stumbled to a halt, a gasp escaping him as a blue haze enveloped his chest and _squeezed_...

A moment later the grenade went off with a boom, the explosion tearing the prisoner into little lumps of torn flesh that flew in all directions, Michael's raised gauntlet the only thing stopping him from being smacked in the face by one of the meaty fragments.

Lowering his hand he glanced at Miranda, finding the woman having somehow avoided the crimson blast save a single bead of red blood across her right cheek, he arched a brow at her...and she shrugged back. "What?"

"Nothing." Michael shook his head as he moved ahead. "We have to keep going, by the rate of how they're tearing this place apart we need to get off this station while there's a station to _get_ off from."

"Yeah." Grunt agreed. "These idiots are fun to shoot...but unworthy of dying with." Michael shot the Krogan a surprised look, having expected nothing but the enjoyment of the battle from him by now...and found Grunt's gaze distant as the Krogan eyed the smoke ahead, as if seeing something Michael didn't.

_Huh_..._a_ _Krogan_ _philosopher_...? Michael shook his head, then pushed through the smoke; this wasn't the time to question his companions.

The smoke was thick, clinging to him...and Michael pushed through...finding...

_Garrus_!

He ground to a halt, staring at the Turian, and then flicked his eyes left and right, seeing Jacob, Zaeed and Mordin flanking his friend as the group appeared at the other end of the corridor, a few dead mercenaries lying between the two groups, whoever had killed them long gone.

Finally he found his voice. "What the hell are you guys doing here!"

"Saving you!" Jacob retorted, his shout nearly lost in a blast that made the corridor shake. "Commander, we need to get out of here and fast, the prisoners are tearing the station apart!"

"No shit!" Michael replied, having to widen his stance as another blast shook through the station. "I'm guessing I have _you_ to thank for these maniacs running around!"

Jacob at least looked a bit embarrassed...but shrugged. "And EDI. We didn't have a lot of options, Commander!"

_True_...Michael grimaced.

"We still haven't located Jack!" Miranda butted in, the woman looking irritated even as she shot the shaking walls a sharp look.

Michael shook his head, knowing the right call. "There's no time, we have to-"

A _massive_ boom...and the ceiling between the two groups came crashing down in a shower of steel beams and grey dust.

A moment later, black smoke was drifting from the debris, joined by flickering orange fire...and a haze of blue energy that rose like angry serpents from the ruins, their movement pushing fire and smoke alike aside...

Michael stared in shock at what the blue energy revealed.

In the middle of the crater made by the falling ceiling was Kuril, the Turian's armour covered in blackened dents as he lay on his back, _struggling_ to toss a woman that looked like she hadn't eaten in _months_ from his body...

Even by prisoner standards she was poorly dressed, her pants hung low on her bony hips and were torn and covered in brown grime, her boots looked equally damaged and filthy...and unless one counted the tattoos covering her body that was _all_ she wore. She even lacked _hair_...her skull shiny with sweat, as was the rest of her skinny frame as it moved to again and _again_ slam her glowing fists into the Turian she was straddling.

With a start, Michael realised the blue energy rising from the debris was, in fact, emanating from _her_. Pure biotic power seeping from her skin, as if she couldn't _contain_ it all within her small frame but had to sweat it out, letting it drift from her like the smoke from an overheating engine.

A gasp escaped Kuril, the Warden desperately reaching up to grab at the woman's hands...only for her to growl, her left hand shooting down to grab the Turian by the throat. The biotic field around the hand _swelled_...nearly becoming _solid_...and Kuril gurgled, unable to breathe...

The growl from the woman grew, reminding Michael of a hungry Varren...and the biotic field around her right fist swelled as she raised it up high...only to slam it down in a vicious hook against Kuril's face.

A crack...and the Turian's face came apart in a shower of brown plates, flesh and bones...

Kuril went limp.

The woman didn't care, both hands closing around the dead Turian's throat as she _squeezed_...her round face contorting into a mask of hatred that only became more and _more_ vicious as she forced blue blood out of the corpse's throat...

"So...is that...Jack?" Zaeed grunted, the mercenary arching a brow as he held his assault rifle at the ready...warily eyeing the woman.

Michael cocked his head to the side, watching as the woman blinked, slowly returning to the present.

Grunt was chuckling however. "I like her already."

The woman's head snapped round, eyes narrowing as she caught sight of the Krogan. "Fuck you." She flew to her feet, her whole body aglow with energy as she moved towards Grunt and his raised shotgun, apparently unfazed by the threat.

_Right, my turn_. "Stop." She didn't heed...and Michael fired a shot past her head. "_Please_."

The woman stopped, but it wasn't with a frightened look, just _rage_ as she looked over at him. "_Please_! What are you? A _pussy_!"

Michael cocked his head to the side, not answering instantly. The woman was agitated...her anger _genuine_, yet...she reminded him of someone. _Wasn't_ _I_..._like_ _that_..._once_? Even as she watched, she hesitated, uncomfortable under the scrutiny that was ignoring both her nakedness and the flare of biotic energy surrounding her. She _needed_ the anger, it was her shield, it was plain as day to him, for he remembered his days back on earth, the memories still fresh enough that it could have happened a _week_ ago...

"WHAT!" The woman exploded, taking a threatening step forward...

Michael ignored it, she was cornered, the team would take her down if needed...so he lowered his rifle. "You are Jack, then...?"

"Who the fuck wants to know!" She retorted, glare moving from him to Miranda...and her eyes narrowed further. "Another Cerberus fucker! You aren't getting me, you prick!"

Michael arched a brow...and crossed his arms over his chest. _Better calm this down_... "You know, excessive cursing is a sign of insecurity..."

The woman blinked, surprised, then hesitated. "I...fuck you!"

Michael's smile came unbidden. "See?"

"Shepard." Jacob muttered from the other end of the corridor. "Maybe pissing her off further isn't such a good idea..."

The woman, looking like she was about to burst, her eyes twitching...stopped, eyes narrowing at Michael. "Shepard? Shit...you're that hero guy...what the hell are you doing here? Shouldn't you be...shit...dead?"

"I get that a lot." Michael replied with a shrug. "As to what I'm doing here...I was getting a woman named Jack out of prison...but if you're not her..." He made a slight turn to leave...

A snort escaped the woman. "You think I'll go with _you_? You're a Cerberus dog, or you wouldn't be with _that_ bitch." She nodded towards Miranda...who visibly bristled. "Fuck you, guys."

_Eloquent_... "So you'd rather stay here with the nut-jobs and this sinking station?" Michael asked, quickly adding before Jack could answer. "I won't force you to come, but staying seems a bit...stupid?"

"Who are you calling stupid, you shithead?" Jack snarled, hands curling into new fists as the biotic energy around her once more surged into life, making the rest of the team tense up, weapons ready.

"The one wanting to stay and die..." Michael replied, unafraid. He shrugged. "But as I said, I won't force you to come along." Jack snorted at that...but Michael ignored it as he continued. "But hey, I'll make you a deal. I'll get you off this station...and you can then choose if you want to stay or be dropped off at the nearest..." He hesitated, considering the woman, she was _dangerous_...but still...he could understand her...even if he didn't want anyone exposed to her. "...uninhabited planet."

Behind him Miranda sighed. "Shepard, this isn't really the time for your damn choice-"

He raised a hand...and her mouth clicked shut, his gaze fixed upon Jack as the woman hesitated. "What do you say? No strings attached, a simple choice."

"There's always strings attached." Jack snarled, eyeing Michael with suspicion. "You're too smooth...I don't trust you."

"You don't trust _anyone_." Michael retorted, a little pleased by the surprised look he received from his observation. "Now...I don't have all day, and by the sound of things, neither does this station...your call."

Silence.

Hesitation.

She looked...scared.

Then the anger replaced it, sliding into place as the woman jabbed a finger in Michael's direction. "Not good enough! You're Cerberus! You want my help? I want to know what Cerberus' got on me!" A moment of hesitation...and then Jack snarled. "Deal!"

"Hmmm..." Michael frowned...then smirked. _Too much like the old me_..._how did that old priest do it when he calmed me again_? _Oh_..._right_... "Say please."

Jack blinked, the anger replaced by confusion. "What?"

And Miranda wasn't late to repeat the word, voice incredulous. "What!"

Michael ignored the Cerberus woman, his eyes fixed upon Jack as he smirked. "I'm offering you a generous deal and a generous choice, you want _more_ with nothing extra for me...so all I ask for...is a simple 'please'..."

"Fuck you!" The woman snapped, hand coming up to show him the finger.

And Michael remained impassive, calm even as part of the ceiling behind him came crashing down.

Jack eyed the crashing debris, swaying where she stood as the station shuddered with blast upon blast...and Michael held his ground, smirk remaining as he held her gaze, a gaze shifting from anger to fear to uncertainty.

Jack looked away. "Fu..._please_ give me the Cerberus intelligence...you fu..." Something akin to a muffled growl escaped the woman as she bit her tongue, eyes shooting daggers as she glanced back up at Michael.

"Of course I will." Michael cheerfully replied, ignoring Miranda's muffled curse even as he smiled broadly at the glaring prisoner. "It'll be my pleasure." He gestured forward, towards the team on the other end. "After you."

"Fuck you..." Jack grumbled, but turned, moving to follow the rest of the team now acting as vanguard as they moved towards the Normandy.

Michael just rolled his eyes at her bravado.

_Well_..._this_ _ought_ _to_ _be_ _fun_.

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_Thanks to Abydos Jackson for all her help._


	23. Chapter 23

The Citadel was beautiful

Even the Wards, crowded as they were, had a certain...sophistication to it. Not the people themselves, of course, they were less then...pleasant, but the architecture itself was remarkable, a true wonder to behold.

Not that Miranda had any time to appreciate it, she had too much to deal with.

There was the backlog of reports to the Illusive man that were waiting on her desk, a set of disciplinary punishments to be supervised against some of the crew. She understood them, she _did_, they were tired, testy, and had no time for shore-leave...so some playing around was to be expected...yet _discipline_ had to be upheld if the ship was to work. It wasn't anything major, even _Miranda_ had considered letting it slide...but that would _surely_ invite more trouble, so she would make _sure_ they learnt their lesson...

But none of that was currently being done, since Miranda was busy _glaring_ at Jack, the little woman having the audacity to glare back at her.

Back at the Normandy the two had had little interaction, the crude ex-con had sense enough to stay in her little hole in the hold, becoming as little a bother as possible. Only Shepard had even _bothered_ to seek her out...and that was probably for the best, at least _he_ seemed capable of putting a leash on the woman.

Even here on the Citadel it was obvious that the man at least had _some_ control over the uncontrollable. That is, that he had managed to convince Jack to wear a black jacket that had been zipped up enough to hide the fact that Jack wore nothing underneath. Miranda had preferred that the criminal stayed on the ship...but then again that was as much a risk as her being on the Citadel...and less likely to involve dead Cerberus crew...

Either way the jacket was at least something, their group of various specialists drew enough gazes as it was, and a topless woman with anger management issues would just have made things worse...

_Not that those bee-stings are much to look at_... Miranda cocked her mouth in a small smirk at the thought, crossing her arms over her own chest as she maintained her glare upon the crazy biotic.

"What's the smirk for, bitch?" Jack growled, inching closer, brown eyes narrowing. "You think you can smirk me into doing what you want? I told you, I'm not one for taking orders, and _especially_ not from some Cerberus whore."

Miranda felt her fingers curl into her hands, yet refused to show the tension in her face as she looked back, not backing down. She _knew_ the ex-con had a filthy mouth, yet...the whore insult bit deeper then Miranda cared to admit. She knew her looks drew gazes...and comments...and...at times..._assumptions_. Many times her looks were _why_ she hated her father more then anything else, it was a constant reminder of the time at his...lab...

She easily kept her feelings, and voice, under control however. "You are still staying on our ship, are you not?" Miranda _knew_ the only reason the biotic still stayed was because of Michael's foolish agreement of letting the crazy woman look into Cerberus files...however much her access had been limited...but that was not the issue. "On the ship you follow military procedures, which involves _obeying_ superior officers."

Jack stomped closer, a flare of biotic energy in her eyes as her breath brushed against Miranda's face, the biotic twitching in barely restrained hatred. "There's _nothing_ about you that's _superior_, bitch."

_Except for my looks, my skills, my training, my education_, _my_..._hygiene_. Miranda wrinkled her nose, just now realising Jack probably hadn't showered since arriving on the Normandy..._and_ that she needed a mint. She moved to speak...

And stopped, seeing Michael approaching in the corner of her eye.

The two of them had lost Shepard in the crowd before...and for the first time since he'd become revived Miranda felt relief at seeing him. "Ah, Shepard, thank goodness, please talk some sense into Jack, here?"

"Ah, yes, I _overheard_ something about...superior officer and orders?" Michael asked, looking at the two with an amused look on his face. "Really girls, if you wanted to announce a catfight you couldn't have done it louder."

Only now did Miranda notice he wasn't alone. Garrus stood to Michael's right side, the Turian too looking amused...though keeping a slightly larger distance from the two women, keeping half an eye on the fuming Jack. Jacob wasn't there however, making Miranda wonder how Michael had gotten rid of him...no doubt the man had obeyed some order of Michael's and was now busy on some lousy errand..._despite_ Miranda's instructions.

While Mordin was still on the ship, doing his _job_, which Miranda was _struggling_ not to lecture the others about by now...at least Zaeed was with Michael, keeping a bored eye on the people around them...many if whom Miranda now realised were _looking_ at them.

_Maybe we __did__ talk a bit loudly_... Miranda grimaced even as Jack shot a glare around, making those staring too obviously hurry on with their business.

Only _then_ did Miranda notice the woman accompanying Shepard and the others. It was strange, Miranda could have _sworn_ she'd looked at the space the woman was in...yet somehow she'd missed the woman at first glance, a strange hitch in her otherwise attentive gaze. All the more strange because the woman looked quite..._curious_.

The black and grey bodysuit she wore was sporting subtle armour, especially around her legs and arms, and tight on a lithe figure. She was also wearing a black hood, concealing all but a tattooed pink lip, fair skin...and eyes that glinted in the shadow of her hood as she observed the two women before her.

Miranda found herself..._uneasy_. Usually she could at least read _something_ from the ones she met, even the Illusive man she knew some things of just by looking at him But _this_ woman...there was just a hint of mischievousness in her...and then _nothing_...just a blank of a person standing before them.

Noticing her gaze the woman looked at her...and _winked_.

_Right, I don't like you_, _but I don't like most I work with anyway_... Miranda shrugged, looking back to Michael to get the confirmation she didn't really need. "Kasumi Goto, I assume?" She shot a brief nod in the other woman's direction. "Found her, did you? Please tell me she won't need something done like Zaeed..." Miranda already knew it wasn't so, she had Kasumi's file after all, yet she _hoped_...

Michael at least had the good sense to look awkward, a hand rubbing the back of his neck as he muttered. "Yes and...eh...it's just a tiny thing...I can do it on my own." _Great, because I need to risk a two year long project in needless missions_... Miranda grumbled, shaking her head in frustration. "Besides, we're not focusing on that, what's this stuff you're arguing about?"

"Just tell her to back off." Jack shot in before Miranda could speak, the two exchanging a glare.

Silence, Miranda letting the moment linger...then she looked back to Michael. "Listen, I'm just trying to tell her to calm down and to be on her best behaviour while on the Citadel, yet she refuses to listen to me. With me as second in Command she really-"

"Whoa, whoa!" Michael raised his hands, stopping Miranda with an arched eyebrow. "Who said you're second in command?"

Miranda blinked, not having expected such a strange question.

Next to her Jack chuckled...and Miranda blinked again, remembering herself. "I...excuse me?"

"You, second in Command, who?" Michael repeated, _smirking_.

_Is every person in the galaxy __set__ on driving me mad_! Miranda's eye twitched as she forced herself to take a deep breath before responding. "Shepard, I report directly to the Illusive man, I was _hand-picked _to be your second in command, the rank is in the records and it's...just _so_."

"Well...I believe _I'm_ in command of this mission, this ship and it's crew..." Michael replied, arms crossing over his chest as he leant back on his heels..._still_ smirking! "...which makes the ranks of _any_ one below my station _my_ decision...Illusive man or no."

"What? You...but I..." Miranda blinked furiously, confusion digging deep in her gut as she tried to deal with Michael's sudden decision. "That is...are you..."

Michael leant back forward, a hand coming up to wag a finger before Miranda's face as he _kept_ smirking. "Don't make assumptions, Miss Lawson..."

Next to her Jack was loudly chuckling...even as Miranda recovered from the shock, eyes narrowing as she moved to reply...

Only for Michael to step back as he looked over at Jack. "And by the way Jack, Miranda _is_ second in command, get over it."

Miranda and Jack spluttered in tandem.

"You can't expect me to-!"

"Why did you even question-!"

Michael raised a hand...and both mouths clicked shut, infuriating Miranda. It was just something about him...he commanded and you obeyed...Miranda could actually at times admit that she was a bit jealous of that ability.

"Yes, Jack, I do." Michael looked over at the biotic, face calm as ever, despite the danger the crazy woman posed. "You can still choose to leave if you wish, but Miranda is mature enough not to ask anything stupid off you, so calm down and avoid Miranda when not on missions."

"I..." Jack hesitated...then growled. "..._fine_!"

"As to _your_ question..." Michael turned to Miranda...and the smirk _returned_. "...because it's fun?"

"Fu..." Miranda's eye twitched...and it actually _hurt_. She took a deep breath, remembering the Illusive man's standing orders about Michael, the man was emotionally unstable and should be given a certain leeway...she looked back at Michael...and found herself taking _another_ deep breath, grinding down her frustration deep into her gut. "...very well...Shepard."

Michael arched an eyebrow, almost looking disappointed. "Huh...anyway, I was just coming by to tell you I'm off to talk to the Council, we'll leave after I'm done."

Miranda hesitated._ Council aid __would__ be good, but it would aid only for Shepard_..._and_ _he's_ _not_ _Cerberus, however much we might try to contain him_._ He __is__ an ally however, for now_..._but needs to be watched, as per standing orders_._ However, a Cerberus officer present would endanger any opportunity Shepard might have with the Council_...

As if reading her mind Michael shook his head, looking serious. "No, you're not coming, you know that wouldn't help." Then half a smirk returned. "You'll just have to hope I write an honest report of what happened later."

_Of all the_... Miranda drew a shuddering breath. Michael was _no_ fan of Cerberus, he had made that _abundantly_ clear, again and again...yet this _prodding_...Miranda didn't think she deserved it. _Just because I'm Cerberus_... She swiftly shook the pathetic jab of self-pity off, as she always did. "Of course, Commander, whatever you say."

"Right...and before I go..." Michael grabbed Miranda by the shoulder, leading her away from the others as he leaned in close, pushing a slip of paper into her hand as he spoke. "...here you go, I'd like you to get this done."

Surprised by the sudden turn of events...and pleasantly so that she was being entrusted something _sensible_ by the anything _but_ sensible man Miranda looked down at the paper...and found herself staring in confusion.

_There must be a mistake_...

"Commander...this is a grocery list."

"Sure is, I'm quite sure you can find everything you need in the wards, and if not you have the Presidium, you if anyone can shake the credits out of Cerberus' funds." Michael replied, as if what he was saying was making _sense_...

_Finally_ anger took the upper hand...and the only control she had left was to lower her voice to an angry hiss as she glared at Michael. "You want me to go _grocery shopping_ while you're talking to the Council!"

There was no humour in the eyes looking back at her, Michael's hands coming to grab her shoulders as he evenly looked right back at her glare. "Yes, I do." Miranda hesitated...and Michael continued, voice still even. "Listen, this is for the crew, they _need_ better rations and I want _you_ to get it for them. I am already quite well liked among them, _you_ however..." He let the words hang there...and Miranda grimaced, well aware of the crew's opinion of her, undisciplined wretches as they were.

Shifting her stance Miranda rolled her eyes. "What's your point?"

"My point is that you're a _good_ second in command, really, you _are_...you're strategical, calm, and quick to analyse and tackle problems. But you're _lousy_ with people. Commanding isn't just about giving orders, it's about the people under your charge _willing_ to enact your commands." Michael paused, holding her gaze to make sure she was following, which she _was_...even if she didn't like it. "So I'm giving you this so you can furnish some goodwill with the crew, you need it more then I do."

_I don't need goodwill, I need them to be good at their jobs and nothing_... Miranda blinked, remembering her envy of Shepard's ability to command...and reluctantly realised she had to bow to his opinion in this. "I...very well commander, you might have a point." She looked up at him, shaking her head. "But it'll be obvious to them what I'm doing..."

The man snorted. "_Of course _it will, but that won't matter, good meals weigh heavier with soldiers then the reason behind it, I assure you."

Miranda shrugged, not really knowing anything about it. "If you say so..."

"I do." Michael replied, then released her, stepping back as a sigh of irritation escaped him. "Right, I better get this Council thing over with...it's going to _suuuck_..."

Miranda couldn't help but smile at that. _Good_...

8

8

8

Michael felt...off.

As he stood in the elevator leading to the human Councillor's office the amusement he had felt from teasing the far too tightly wound Miranda was fading fast, replaced by...he wasn't _sure_ what.

He should be worrying about Garrus and the issues of the man lurking just beneath his tough exterior, the Turian ever so silent a step behind Michael. He should be worrying about bringing aboard a _thief_ that since their introduction hadn't said a _word_...yet seemed strangely amused by everything around them...and also just a step away from stealing something valuable with those idle hands of hers.

Yet he didn't.

He should be thinking about the impending meeting, his arguments, what they might say, how to defend himself...what to pursue and what to consider already lost. He should think about meeting David Anderson again, how the ambassador would react, what to say to him...

Yet he didn't.

Because it just felt...wrong. _Something_ was wrong...and he couldn't put his finger on _what_. He had a growing team, he was getting things done, more so then he had under Council leadership after Saren's defeat...and yet something was..._off_.

Perhaps it was that the link between the Collectors and the Reapers were intangible...or perhaps because _all_ he had done since the battle at the Citadel had been just that..._intangible_. He _knew_ the Reapers existed, he _knew_ they were coming...his visions, his memories and even his _blood_ screamed this to him...yet more and more it felt like he was chasing phantoms.

Or maybe it was just being on the Citadel that was putting him in such an odd mood? He remembered how he'd been shot back in the wards, how Tali had helped him back to the ship... He remembered fighting through the Presidium, the fires and screams... He remembered Sovereign,the machine latching onto the Council tower like a monstrous cancer...

_Or maybe I just feel alone_. He soberly noted, throwing a glance back at the three at his back with a dim smile. They were there, following his commands, loyal...Garrus no doubt unto _death_. Yet for all that they were followers, not truly equals when it came to the war.

It was a necessity of military command Michael knew...yet...he no longer found _any_ appreciation in it. The levity of the situation was digging at him...the knowledge of how much the Illusive man had spent on him to carry the battle against the Collectors and the Reapers...and _why_? Because there was _no one else_. No one other then _him_ to lead the _war_, no one but _him_ to lead _every_ battle against the Reapers and their followers, either due to others lacking ability...or _belief_ in their coming foes.

It was his burden to carry, he _knew_ it, he also knew he had chosen to do so with his eyes open...yet...it felt heavy.

The fact he was moving to talk to the Council, not knowing if he'd be simply thrown out or put before a firing squad, just made it worse...all too clearly showing what a lack of support there was.

_Maybe I'll buddy up with Miranda and the Illusive man since they're the only ones believing me_... Michael snorted at the idea. _Damn, the level of the company I keep has dropped as of late_...

Then the elevator gave off a 'ding'...and the door opened.

The councillor's office was large and spacious, the floor and walls glistening white, the later marked by the odd painting or framed diploma. To Michael's right a table of polished steel along with a few less then comfortable looking chairs stood in a corner, not looking as if they were used overly much, to the left a somewhat tired-looking fern grew in a pot. The far wall opened onto a balcony as wide as the room itself, the railing a white wall...upon which a familiar sight was resting his hands upon as he gazed over the rest of the Presidium.

At the sound of the door hissing shut behind Michael and the others the man turned...and Michael felt a pang of guilt.

Anderson looked...tired. Not like he'd had a rough day, but more like the fern in the corner, as if he hadn't received any caring or boost of energy for a long time, as if the pot he lived in was slowly choking him to death...

A pot Michael had placed him in.

The guilt only got worse when David's face broke into a wide smile, the man's steps long as he covered the gulf between them, arms held out wide...and Michael forced himself to smile back as he moved to meet the hug with one of his own.

There was still strength in Anderson's arms and Michael felt his armour shift under them as they held onto him...and didn't know how to respond when the man muttered at him, voice hoarse with emotion. "I couldn't believe it when I heard you were alive...I...God, it's good to see you again."

Michael grimaced, the memories of times before far too fresh in his mind...and now tinged with a guilt he hadn't wanted to acknowledge. He _knew_ Anderson considered Michael like another son...he had known it back before he'd even become a _Spectre_...and he remembered having used it for his own ends.

It hadn't been selfish. After Elysium he had been motivated to rise in ranks and to get the toughest deployments and hardest assignments. It had been to spare lives, to stop any other fool with ideas of making a name for himself to get others killed as Michael had back during the Blitz. Yet...for such admirable goals...he _had_ used Anderson to get them, and he had done it knowing what the man felt for him, _because_ of it.

Feelings Michael, so cut off from his own, had never shared, feelings he had thought himself better of _without_...

Tali had shown him otherwise, yet...the memories were still tainted with that knowledge, that he had used such a good man...and even _now_ could never repay him, or even respond to the affection as he _should_.

For all he felt when thinking of David was guilt.

Still, he managed a stiff smile as he gave Anderson a final squeeze before ending the hug. "Sir, you look good...a bit more grey in your hair though."

Anderson chuckled, shaking his head at Michael, a happy smile stuck to his face, nearly making Michael wince. "And a few more wrinkles, no thanks to you..." Another shake of his head, the grin not fading for a _moment_. "...you really know how to give a man a headache, you know that, right?"

"And here I thought you'd enjoy bossing Udina around..." Michael quipped, not really sure how to respond.

"True enough." Anderson replied, the smile fading a bit at the name. "One of the perks of this job, I admit..."

"One of the few." Michael finished for the other man, unable to hide the grimace appearing on his face. "Listen, sorry if putting you here wasn't..." David raised a hand to quiet him, but Michael chose to ignore it. "...what you wanted, I thought I'd pay you back for the whole Spectre thing, your support and...well it was you or Udina and I couldn't well make _him_ Councillor!"

Anderson's other hand came up, both held before him as he gestured for Michael to calm down. "I know you did, and it worked out for the best, without me there wouldn't even be a _file_ in the Council archives about the Reapers...yes, it's been hard...but you know men like you and I...we fight the good fight, no matter the opposition." David managed a tired smile at that as he lowered his hands...and Michael felt another pang of guilt. "It's just good to have you back, no matter _who_ brought you back..." He looked over Michael, offering Garrus a nod of recognition before arching his eyebrows at the other two. "...those two aren't Cerberus, are they? They don't look the part."

"I thought it a bad idea to bring any of them along." Michael replied, happy with turning to a subject not involving Anderson's position and Michael's shame. "Though I am working..._alongside_ them I guess...you could call it an alliance of convenience."

"Which I will." Anderson nodded, mouth a thin line as his brow furrowed with the thoughts of a professional dwelling on his work. The man turned, gesturing for Michael to follow him to the balcony before resting his hands back onto the banister, his tone was bitter. "The Council understands all too well alliances of convenience...but good luck convincing them of that when it comes to Cerberus. They are more then happy to suddenly sit on their high horses when it comes to subjects they don't care for."

Michael shrugged. "I expect nothing less, honestly, I'm unsure if it's even worth bothering talking to them...but why not, right?"

"There's many reasons not to..." David grumbled...only to shake it off with a grunt. "...but if it'll help you and the fight against the Reapers those reasons weigh lightly."

Guilt once more dug into Michael's gut...and he grimaced. "Listen, you don't have to help, I can talk to the Council like any other petitioner, if going through you causes problems..."

David raised a hand, this time successful in silencing Michael. "Don't be stupid, you stand a better chance with my active support, besides..." He shot Michael a tired smile. "...you wouldn't _dare_ keep me out of doing my part in the good fight...would you?"

Michael actually found a real smile appear on his lips at that._ I have missed you a bit_... "No, sir, of course not."

"David." Anderson corrected, hand coming to rest upon Michael's as he held his gaze, looking stoic...yet strangely vulnerable.

The guilt was thick in his throat...and Michael was forced to swallow before he nodded. "David."

Anderson held his gaze, eyes searching...and then nodded, not looking completely satisfied...but reassured by whatever he had seen. He turned towards the alcove, the three holographic projectors there standing silent and waiting. "Good, anyway, we should get this under way. The other councillors have demanded that I contact them if you made contact...and I'm sure they all know of the Normandy's landing and are now impatiently waiting..."

Michael offered a chuckle. "So we should therefore have a cup of coffee and let them sweat a little."

David shot him a look. "If only...my position with them is strained as it is..." His hand hovered over the projectors, omni-tool aglow...and all three councillors appeared almost simultaneously. "Ah, fellow councillors; good that you responded so quickly, as you see I have Shepard with me-"

"And why isn't he in chains already?" The Turian interrupted, his hologram crossing its arms. "Being an agent of Cerberus is still a capital offence, is it not?"

_Oh hey, still an asshole I see_? Michael smiled as he stepped forward, keeping his tone friendly. "As is allying with the Geth to wage war on Citadel races...I don't remember you chasing after Saren without at least hearing him out back after Eden Prime."

"The evidence against him was minimal at best." The Salarian quickly interjected before the Turian could respond. "And the Council _did_ take action against him later on." _Oh yes, slapping a badge on me like in the wild west and telling me to get after him_..._good_ _work_ _there_, _was_ _very_ _strenuous,_ _I'm_ _sure_. "You, however, have yet to even _deny_ the charges against you."

"True, but considering me allying with Benezia's daughter, a Quarian and even a _Rachni_ Queen in my campaign against Saren...are you _really_ surprised about me having strange allies?" Michael offered a smirk. "But no, I am not working for Cerberus, they are an ally in my campaign against the Reapers."

"The Rachni were not an ally, do not muddle the issue." The Asari said, she looked...strained, more tired since last time Michael had seen her, making him shoot Anderson a look. _A human and a Turian on the Council_..._bet she has had to play a diplomat on far too many a meeting_.

"Nor did they overrun the galaxy as the Council claimed." Michael pointed out. "So we can all be at fault...but as you said, no muddling of the issue. I _am_ working _alongside_ Cerberus, _not_ as an agent, I do not agree with their ideals or particularly care about their goals. What I _do_ care about is that they have shown a willingness to help me, without overly interfering in my campaign against the Reapers... "

"Reapers, Reapers, Reapers." The Turian mocked, shaking his head. "You're _obsessed_, human." The hologram turned to look at the others as he shot a wave towards Michael. "It's _clear_ that his mental state hasn't improved, no wonder Cerberus can lead him around so easily."

"_I_ am in command of my vessel, I am _not_ led around." Michael snapped, stepping forth as he felt a hand ball into a fist. _Almost forgot how much I hated talking to these guys_... "And I do not _recall_ you objecting to my claims about the Reapers all this eagerly back after the battle of the Citadel and _your_ rescue."

The councillors had the good grace to at least flinch at those words, the three exchanging glances.

_Good_. "Amazing how quick memory of politicians fades isn't it? Or is that the public? I've read the edited extranet reports about the battle of the Citadel..." Michael found himself sneering, the disgust of the revelation still fresh in him. "...you waited an entire year at least. Good, at least my ashes were cold by then, right?"

"That was undeserved." The Asari managed, looking...vexed. "We have to think of trillions of lives, of public unrest, we cannot-"

"What you did to my _work_ was undeserved." Michael snapped, patience rapidly evaporating. "I can't help but wonder if this is you trying to protect the public...or just you trying to dig your heads into the sand and _hope_ the problem goes away."

Two of them gasped...as the Salarian swiftly spoke: "You are speaking to the Council, human, remember that."

_A Council alive because of me_... Michael forced himself to bow his head, taking a deep breath. "Apologies...my frustration got the better of me."Another deep breath was needed before he could speak again. "But you must understand I find this denial and continued stalling of any _real_ action or investigation..._frustrating_."

"_That_, I can understand." The Turian growled, arms crossed over his chest as he glared at Michael, his frustration with the human as clear as his anger. "But the Council will _not_ act on baseless accusations. We have found _nothing_ from Sovereign that speaks of anything but Geth technology..." _What_! "...and all of those holograms, VI's, and therefore also your recordings, are either now inactive or items that could have easily been manipulated by Saren. The man was _playing_ you, Shepard, and even _now_ is..."

_Of all the bullshit I've ever_...

Michael took another step forward, only for David to interrupt, putting himself between Michael and the holograms. "This is not the issue, I am on this council too and I will _not_ have this backtracking of everything Shepard has done to continue. He is _not_ a criminal and he has _nothing_ but _outstanding_ service for the Alliance and the Council behind him, the Council have put greater trust in other agents of theirs, and agents with a _far_ worse track-record."

The Turian growled in annoyance. "If you think bringing up _Saren_ will _help_ your case you are..."

The Asari's hologram gestured...and managed to silence her co-worker even as she offered Anderson a respectful nod. "Very true, councillor, you raise a fair point. While Spectres are now under proper control..." Behind, Michael barely noticed how Garrus' mandibles flared in annoyance. "...we _cannot_ ask one that has been listed dead and who was chosen under _old_ preferences to follow Council directions as the new ones would."

"Shepard..." The Turian snorted. "...is _not_ a Spectre any more, he died."

"Thank you, I'm _well_ aware I did." Michael quipped, drawing an angry glance from the Turian.

The Asari ignored the two, her gaze fixed upon Anderson. "On the other hand we cannot assist a man so directly involved with a terrorist organization...and particularly a person who continues to involve himself with the issues of the Terminus systems. It could be interpreted as the Council involving themselves in the politics of neutral systems."

_Oh yes, because you'd __never__ do that_..._openly_. Michael struggled not to roll his eyes even as Anderson replied. "We understand that, we do not agree, but the Alliance understands. However, my demand stands, Shepard deserves better then us washing our hands off him." _Oh sure, talk of me like I'm not here_..._I wish it was so_.

The Salarian cocked his head to the side, nodding. "Agreed, not only would it look bad to do so against the saviour of the Citadel..."_ Of course not_..._I_ _hate_ _you_ _guys_. "...but it would also diminish any chance of us working together with such a fine agent, and perhaps even push him into Cerberus hands." _Oh great now you __are__ talking of me as if I'm not here_...

Michael grumbled...but forced himself to say nothing as he realised Anderson had it under control, the human, the Asari and the Salarian all turning to look at the Turian Councillor...whose mandibles visibly twitched as he nodded, unwilling to speak.

As one the Councillors turned back to Michael, the Asari, as expected, speaking. "Shepard, we cannot condone your alliance with Cerberus, however, due to your record and continued efforts in aiding the galaxy the Council has seen it fit to reinstate you as Spectre..." _Aaaand there we __go_..._getting my badge back, with a pat on the back, how nice_. Michael held back his snort. "...if you wish it." _Oh_?_ I get to choose this time_? _Wow_..._generous_.

Michael looked over to Anderson...who offered a supporting nod.

_Well_..._I guess keeping diplomatic relations open is at least __something_...

He stepped forward, moving to kneel, then snorting as he stopped himself. _No, I will __not__ kneel before you, not __this__ time_. Instead he stood straight, hands coming to rest behind his back as he looked them straight in the eye. "I accept your offer."

With a thump the Turian's hologram faded.

Heh... Michael found a smirk appear on his lips even as the Asari bowed her head. "Thank you, Shepard, this is the best solution, we wish you luck...and an end to your alliance with Cerberus."

Only then did her hologram fade.

The Salarian still held his head cocked, watching Michael, looking...curious. Then a nod and a brief smile. "Good luck."

And so Michael found himself standing there, next to Anderson...as the man moved to shake Michael's hand, looking relieved. "That went surprisingly well, or at least, it could have gone worse. You're less smooth at these meetings then I remember you."

Michael shrugged. "What can I say? I've gotten rough." Then smiled. "But what about you? You're far smoother then I remember...had that planned, didn't you? Becoming a good politician are you?"

A small laugh escaped David, the man shooting Michael a smirk. "That was uncalled for, you know I still consider myself a soldier." The smile died however, the man turning pensive. "It's not much Michael...they won't actually _do_ anything any time soon...but it's all I _can_ do, at least this way you won't have to worry about them hounding you."

Michael found himself smiling. It was _ages_ since someone did something for him just out of an urge to _help_, last time must have been on the old Normandy when Tali...the smile froze at the memory, but Michael managed to keep his tone pleased. "I couldn't have asked for more, frankly I half-expected to run out guns blazing to escape c-sec."

Another laugh escaped Anderson, the man not acknowledging Michael's frozen smile. "And you would probably have _succeeded_! God knows how you do it..." A chuckle, the man shaking his head, suddenly looking sad. "Though, I guess you have to leave now...those lost colonies, right?"

Michael mutely nodded, unable to express what he _should_ express, the guilt again digging into him

David hesitated. "I'll...do what I can to help you."

For a moment it looked like Anderson would hug him again.

Then he merely stretched out his hand...

...and Michael felt as if he had suddenly lost something as he took it.

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_Thanks to Abydos Jackson for climbing this mountain._


	24. Chapter 24

_So_..._no_ _gun_..._and_ _armoured_ _in_ _clothes_.

That wasn't completely true, while Michael lacked a gun, the suit he wore was sporting subtle armour beneath...not to mention a shield generator. He also had another asset...he glanced back to Kasumi, the woman smirking back at him even as the pistol in her hands remained lowered and ready.

Helping Kasumi with Donovan Hock and the greybox he had stolen from her dead partner was a steep price, given the risks of almost singly infiltrating a party full of crime lords and their henchmen...none of which appreciated Michael's work all that much. Happily, none had recognised him...the make up diminishing his chin and raising his cheekbones as well as colouring his hair black had been enough to trick them.

Still, despite the steep price Michael had found himself agreeing to do it. Keiji Okuda had apparently gotten dirt on the Alliance itself, which was bad enough considering the Alliance's shaky reputation with other races, but _lethal_ in the hands of a man like Donovan Hock.

Plus...Michael had heard the grief in Kasumi's voice, almost completely hidden admittedly, when she'd spoken of her partner...and couldn't deny her his help. _Closure_..._is_ _important_. He looked away from the Asian, Ashley's last words echoing in his skull._ I should have said something more_...

He shook it off.

_At least I get to wear a snazzy suit_..._and_ _without_ _politicians_ _dogging_ _me_! Michael let his hands smooth invisible wrinkles down the black suit, finding it surprisingly comfortable given that it was not only something _fancy_, and therefore _supposed_ to be uncomfortable, but _also_ sporting the armour beneath that should chafe without a protective under-suit._ Bet it cost a bundle_..._shouldn't_ _ask_ _Kasumi_ _how_ _she_ _got_ _it_.

Deciding that he had procrastinated enough Michael pressed his back against the wall and glanced round the corner. Disabling Hock's vault was so far going well, but they did _need_ a DNA sample...and since Michael wasn't about to walk up to the man with a syringe they were going for his private quarters. The guard at the door had looked angry though...and Michael wasn't about to argue with him in front of the many guests...

So that left an alternative solution.

It hadn't been difficult to spot the small garden going between the area of the party and Hock's private quarters, nor to reach it, a little jump over a railing...and he ended up in a corner of the somewhat dull garden. It was narrow and L-shaped, the left side open to the sheer drop of the cliff Hock's estate rested on. Michael wasn't sure why the man hadn't put in any railings...perhaps he simply wanted the guards patrolling it not to rest against it.

_Speaking of guards_...

Michael swiftly noted the positions of the three guards in the garden ahead. Two were by the sheer drop, the one closest to Michael sporting a pistol and an extra white strip on his black shoulder-guard, the third was positioned far to the right, looking bored as he looked down at one of the large pots of flowers dotting the small garden.

_This could prove fun_... Michael turned back to Kasumi, smiling. "Three of them, no shots to be fired, follow my lead."

She nodded, smirking back. "On it, Shep." _Shep_! Michael arched a brow...and then Kasumi's cloak activated with a slight hum, her body becoming a blurry shape before him, difficult to spot for anyone not on their guard...and _impossible_ to hear with _other_ sounds around...

With that in mind, Michael stepped round the corner, all smiles as he held out his arms to the side. "Hello there!" All three guards spun around, looking at him as their hands drifted to their weapons...and Michael kept smiling as he carefully walked forward. "Sorry for intruding, but I seem to have gotten away from the party...I'd appreciate being led back."

The guards exchanged looks, even with their helmets on he was sure they looked surprised. "You...got lost?" The leader asked, hand easing away from his pistol as he eyed Michael with a cocked head. "_How_ did you get down here...if I may ask?"

"Yeah...embarrassing story that." Michael replied, rubbing the back of his head and looking awkward even as he spotted the cloaked Kasumi, careful not to disturb the ground or plants, moving towards the guard to the right. "I was just chatting up this woman there, fiery little redhead you know..." The two guards behind their leader chuckled. "...turned out she was a bit _too_ fiery...pushed me over this railing...and here I am." That brought a guffaw out of them both.

The leader didn't sound amused however as he moved closer. "You're lucky she didn't knock you over the railing at the other side, sir." A shake of his head, angry. "I'll have to report this, who are you?"

_Oh_..._I_ _got_ _to_ _do_ _this_...

Michael's grin was painfully wide as he offered his hand. "Shepard." A theatrical pause, and then he continued, still grinning. "Michael...Shepard."

The leader froze even the other two laughed, one of them exclaiming. "Good one!"

The leader, however, shook his head. "Not funny." His right hand came up, jabbing a finger at Michael's chest. "Now, I want to know your _name_, and I want to know it right-"

Michael's grin disappeared, his right hand, so amicably offered, suddenly shot up and grabbed the guard by the wrist, twisting counter-clockwise and forcing the man to turn with the move. A moment later Michael's right foot shot up settling onto the painfully twisted shoulder of the guard.

A kick...and the man shouted in anger as he stumbled away...a shout turning into a scream as he fell over the edge and down the cliff-side.

Ahead, the other guard drew his assault rifle...and Michael's right foot stomped into the ground as he spun counter-clockwise. His scything left foot knocking the weapon out of the guard's hands and over the edge...before Michael smashed the foot into the ground and let his right foot continue the spin, striking the guard in the head and sending him after his weapon with a shriek.

The last one had his weapon drawn...but never got to fire it as as if out of thin air, Kasumi appeared behind him. Her left hand snuck around his throat and pulled his head back as the her right hand, a single black spike now sticking out of the armoured gauntlet, again and again smashed into his side, drawing welts of dark blood.

The guard faltered...and fell, dead.

"Well...that was easy." Michael remarked, watching the odd weapon slide back into Kasumi's gauntlet. "Now, let's get that DNA, and quickly, before anyone checks up on these guys."

"Yep." Kasumi nodded, looking towards Hock's apartment, her tone pensive. "Let's get this over with..."

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The head of the statue of liberty loomed overhead...and Michael shook his head at it.

_Earth_...

His mouth became a thin line, his accumulate memories were still too fresh to his liking, and those of Earth...were not among his fondest.

Around him the many statues Hock had gathered stood in orderly rows. Asari, Human and Turian art...and some he didn't even know who it belonged to...all gathered up for the man's amusement. Michael didn't even want to _think_ about how much it all could be worth.

"Done." Turning, he regarded Kasumi as she lowered the little box that apparently was the greybox. "I've decrypted it and have it all downloaded." She didn't sound all too pleased, rather..._muted_. A shrug...and she turned to Michael, mouth opening.

"Good, then I will take it." Hock's voice resounded through the large chamber, calm and arrogant, obviously enhanced by whatever speakers was being used. "I admit, Kasumi, I was unsure if I'd dare let you in, but the pay-off will be worth this little risk. Surrender now and I will make your end swift."

Kasumi stood perfectly still, looking like a startled deer.

_Oh_..._great_..._of_ _course_ _it_ _was_ _all_ _a_ _trap_..._I_ _hate_ _my_ _luck_. Michael turned towards the exit, eyes narrowing as he looked around himself. "I don't see that happening, Hock. You want the greybox? Come get it."

"I don't know who you are, but you are over your head." Hock retorted, nearly drawing a chuckle out of Michael. _Yeah_..._Sovereign__ was intimidating, a guy with a smooth accent isn't_. "And now you will die."

A curse escaped Kasumi...and the woman tossed Michael her side arm as she drew her own submachine gun and dove for the cover offered by one of the statues pedestal, Michael swiftly following suit.

At the far end of the chamber the doors opened...and spewed forth Eclipse mercenaries, the men and women opening fire even as they moved to spread out and find cover.

_A gun-fight among antiques_... Michael dryly noted, ducking from a salvo before taking a shot at one of the running mercs, sending the woman dropping face first onto the floor as her left leg came off at the knee. _Garrus would have loved this_... A quick dodge...and Michael took shot the remaining leg off Michelangelo's David, sending chards of white marble flying as the man covering behind it fell back with a wet gurgle. The statue listed...and then fell upon another mercenary with a crash and a scream as bones and marble both shattered with the impact. "I don't have to pay for that, do I?"

The mercenaries retort was a salvo of shots that made Michael duck and chuckle.

At least it got a laugh out of Kasumi...even as she appeared right behind two mercenaries ducking behind a strange statue of some oversized mutant. The thief's spiked gauntlet shot out, catching one the of the mercs in the back of the head with a crunch...even as her left hand pressed her gun against the neck of the other and fired a volley into him.

With the thief's sudden appearance on the left flank of the mercenaries many turned to fire at her...only for Michael to take the opportunity to drop out of cover and line up his shots.

Headshot.

Headshot.

A shot to the neck.

Headshot.

One of the mercenaries shouted an order, making the others hesitate between hitting the thief and the man that had just killed four of theirs with quick flanking shots...

Kasumi made it easy for them, the thief disappearing into nothing even as a cylinder left her hand and arched into a cluster of mercenaries.

Ducking into cover, Michael let the pistol expel its heat as the remaining mercenaries opened up on him...

Kasumi's grenade went off...and the fire coming Michael's way faltered as several mercs were tossed up into the air or stumbled in confusion from the concussion grenade...and Michael jumped onto his feet, ignoring his flaring shield as he pumped shots into the confused foes ahead.

As to those not confused...one was knocked flying as Kasumi appeared with a flying kick, the spike on her gauntlet thrusting right through another's neck even as the submachine gun spewed shots into the third one's chest...

Michael turned his gun upon the one Kasumi's kick had sent flying...but didn't fire, realising the man and his oddly twisted neck wouldn't put up a fight.

It was over.

Rising, Michael regarded the chamber. Several of the statues had toppled, others were only half there, the rest of them shards on the floor or sprayed with crimson blood from the corpses scattered over the chamber. _Really__ hope I don't have to pay for that_...

He moved towards one of the mercenaries, quickly stripping him of weapons and heat sinks even as he spoke. "Right, Hock will have more people coming and we have what we came for, we have to leave and we have to leave right now."

"Yeah..." Looking up he found Kasumi looking down at her hand, a hand holding the greybox in a tight grip. Beneath her hood her eyes glittered as they narrowed. "...I have what I came for."

And Michael blinked.

_Why aren't you __pleased_?

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"It's not him."

Michael watched Kasumi, as sympathetic as he was fascinated.

They were in the elevator of the Normandy, dust still clinging to their clothes from their narrow escape from Hock's place, an escape having ended with Hock himself dying with the destruction of his gunship.

Yet Kasumi had not revelled in the man's death, nor in her prize. She had hooked herself up to the greybox, immersing herself in the information, stuck within layer upon layer of Keiji Okura's memories...and Michael had watched as she stiffened with the words she probably had expected.

The information had never been meant to be salvaged, but destroyed.

Kasumi had _known_ it, Michael could tell...still...it hadn't been an easy thing to do. He had watched as the woman, suddenly stripped of her mischievousness...had trembled as she reached for the controls.

She had done it in the end...and he had seen her shoulders slump as a single sniff escaped her. But then it had faded away, her easy-going façade returning, if a bit on the quiet side...and they had journeyed back to the Normandy.

Yet now she had pressed the emergency stop, halting the elevator as she shook...hands coming up to rub her shoulders as she looked away from him, bitterness in her voice. "I _knew_ it would never..._be_ him...it's just..._memories_."

Silence.

Michael found his mouth moving, whispering. "Yet you _hoped_..."

Kasumi managed a nod, her right hand closing into a loose fist as she moved it up into her hood, a sniff escaping it. "Yes...that it would be...I don't know..."

_Tali_...

Michael grimaced, inching closer as he took a shuddering breath. "...like it _used_ to be."

"Y-yes." Kasumi gasped, the thief shaking her head. "B-but he's _g-gone_..."

"Y-you..." Michael found his words becoming stuck in his throat. _Gone_...? _No, not gone, nononono_. "...have your memories of he-him." _It's_ _not_..._an_ _end_...

"I...yes." Kasumi muttered, the woman nodding as she turned, head downcast as she moved closer, hugging her chest tightly. "B-but it won't be the same...I can never get it back."

Michael took the invitation, moving closer as he laid his arms around the woman's shoulders and back, hugging her, throat tight. "I-it's not the end though..." _I'll_ _never_..._no_..._don't_ _think_ _about_ _it_.

Silence greeted his words...

And his thoughts...

And Michael tightened his grip on the woman.

A single sob escaped her.

Followed by silence.

Then her hands was pushing against his chest...and Michael forced himself to let go, to step back, despite not wanting to.

Kasumi still held her head lowered even as her hands dropped to her sides, a shudder ran through her...and then she looked up, eyes wet under her hood, but a smile on her lips. "Thanks, Shep." Her elbow shot back...and struck the console, making the elevator shudder as it moved up nice more.

"You're...welcome?" Michael half said, half asked, watching as the woman before him straightened, blinked...and became the same mischievous person he'd met before, none the worse for wear.

_A shell_...

He struggled with the grimace, with the memory.

_I should break it, for her own good_..._but_..._I_ _don't_ _know_ _how_. _She_ _knew how_..._I_..._don't_...

Kasumi watched him...smiling, uncaring and amused...and fooling only herself.

_Tali_..._y-you're not gone_..._are you_? _It's_ _not_..._the_ _end_..._is_ _it_?

Then the door opened, revealing the CIC...and Michael forced himself to focus back to the present as he looked over at the galaxy map, frowning. "This isn't your stop..."

"I know." Kasumi cocked her head...and shot him a wry smirk. "Thought I'd stop by and eyeball Mr eye-candy Taylor for a while...see you later, Shep." With that the woman disappeared with a hum of her cloak activating...the slight shifting of the air that was her moving out of the elevator and towards the armoury.

Michael looked after her with a frown, shaking his head. _Hiding your feelings from yourself_..._it's not healthy_. The thought drew a sad smile from him, he knew all too well _who_ had taught him that, and what feelings he _himself_ was hiding from.

_Don't think about it_.

Stepping out of the elevator Michael was relieved to see Kelly coming at him, wearing the concerned frown of someone about to bring worrying news._ Good, something to distract myself with_. "Yes, Kelly?"

"Sir." She offered a salute, though the concerned look didn't disappear as she swiftly continued. "The Illusive man wishes to speak with you, it is _urgent_." She shifted where she stood, uncomfortable. "In fact, he has already ordered Joker to head for the mass relay for a jump..."

_He's giving orders now_..._on_ _my_ _ship_. Michael's face darkened.

Kelly took a step back, biting her lower lip, the concerned look not fading. "Sir, I think you want to hear it..."

And Michael nodded, taking a deep breath. "Very well..." He headed for the communication room...and felt his trepidation grow with each step. "...this better be good though..."

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_Thanks to Abydos Jackson for putting aside the time to help with this one._


	25. Chapter 25

_This is bad_.

It had been a gamble just getting to Horizon's _surface_, the Illusive man's intelligence had been good, almost _too_ good in fact, since Michael's team had come upon the colony just as the Collectors had started to _swarm_ over it.

They had managed to make two drops though, flying low enough to avoid being spotted by any Collector, and somehow avoid their sensors from detecting them. Michael had to grudgingly admit the later was mostly due to EDI's efforts.

So far the countermeasures Mordin had installed into their suits were working, the small drones the Collectors used were ignoring Michael and the two flanking him as they crouched upon the roof of a building.

And there were a _lot_ of drones for the countermeasures to keep at bay...they flew through the air with a tiny clicking sound, thousands upon _thousands_ of them, forming great _clouds_ that as one moved like shoals of fish through the air.

The sky above was no better. The great ship in orbit was disturbing the weather pattern, making the elements turn into a crackling storm; dark grey clouds gathering over the colony as bolts of lightning tore through the cold air...and far ahead the Collector cruiser hung above the colony like a gnarled tree. The ugly ship somehow staying close to the planet without gravity pulling it down, a feat Michael had only seen _Sovereign_ pull off. It was another hint of the Collector's allies...but not something solid, something that Michael would put his faith in.

Not that he was about to abandon the fight against the Collectors if he didn't find solid evidence. _No_..._I_ _wouldn't_. Michael blinked, surprised, but knew it to be true. Because what he was seeing...it brought images of Eden Prime to his mind...but was in a way stronger...for here he was right among those that had fallen prey to the foe, _feel_ the terror lingering in the air.

He, Mordin and Kasumi had been covertly dropped in among the residential area of the colony, the team deployed there to figure out just _how_ the Collectors went about taking so many people...

It was obvious though, the pre-fabricated buildings around them were unmarked by weapon fire or any other damage save the odd piece of graffiti from some kid...as the people that had walked among the buildings stood frozen to the spot, many mid-flight, others bowled over, struggling people...frozen to the spot.

They had seen only a few Collectors so far though, the troops obviously a vanguard as they walked between the many frozen people. The Collectors had touched each victim in turn...and they had collapsed, limp like rag-dolls, ready to be put into the few pods Michael so far had spotted.

It was frightening in its calm. There were no shouted orders from the Collectors, no confusion or mocking of their foes. The creatures remained silent, doing their job, not looking in the least hurried. And why would they? There was none to resist them, none on the ground not paralysed, and none in space capable of fighting their massive cruiser. _Well_..._the former might not be so true any more_. Michael hefted his assault rifle with a scowl.

If the Collectors were aware of Miranda and the rest of the team moving down the main road of the colony, towards the turret controls of the colony's defences, they didn't show it. Which worried Michael, the assault of the rest of the team was as much an effort of reaching the controls as it was to distract the Collectors so Michael's team could do their work, not to mention to stall the Collectors long enough for the Alliance to come in.

_So either they don't view her as a threat_..._or they're already dealing with her_..._why don't I like either of those options_? Michael grimaced, suppressing the urge to call the woman, and therefore break radio-silence, before he waved the others to follow as in a crouch they proceeded forth atop the roof of the building they had climbed in order to avoid a small Collector patrol.

_Wonder how many Collectors are in that ship_? _I know our team is good but there is a certain quality to quantity and I wouldn't like a full engagement against a foe we've yet to test our mettle against_...

A sudden moan drew his attention, a _familiar_ moan, making Michael stop mid-stride and cock his head.

Gesturing for the others to follow he moved towards the edge of the roof, the three carefully looking down.

_Husks_...

Michael was suddenly clenching his teeth, glaring at the two filthy creatures of black and blue as they stood there, their grey heads lolling back and forth as they waited, mindless..._husks_._ I remember these_...

More images of Eden Prime flickered before his vision...and Michael shook his head, clenching his teeth all the harder.

Only then did he see the Collectors standing there, four of them, standing a bit further away from the team's hiding place than the Husks. The creatures didn't seem the least bothered by the nearby Husks, in fact they were ignoring them as with lowered rifles they regarded a full thirty people frozen mid-flight, the group frozen still between the Collectors and the idle Husks.

Michael barely noticed Kasumi grimacing badly as they realised what they were looking at.

_Children_...

Two women, one sporting grey hair, were on either end of the group, both with faces twisted into horrified screams as they tried to shoo their charges forward... Charges that could be no more then _four_ years old, their tiny faces twisted into grins of what would have been crying...if they had ever gotten that far. Their little legs frozen in a stumbling attempt to leave...a fruitless attempt.

_A kindergarten class_.

Michael found his hands tightening on his weapon, watching intently at what would happen as those at his sides glanced at him, waiting for the order.

_No, the mission's too important to risk for_... Michael closed his eyes, drawing a shuddering breath. ..._for these children_.

He turned to leave...

And then one of the Collectors stumbled, drawing his gaze.

It stumbled again, arms stretching out wide as the others calmly stepped back, watching as their companion suddenly rose up into the air, feet lifting from the ground as its brown shell began to crack...to _glow_.

An explosion of light...and the Collector dropped back onto its feet, smoke rising from its body as large cracks in its twisted form glowed amber, as if the entire creature was burning from the inside, yet still moving. The eyes, all four of them, once a dull yellow...now glowed with horrifying power, an eerie..._familiar_ glow.

_No_...

Michael stood frozen, staring in horror into the eyes, _remembering_...

_Sovereign_...?

Next to him Mordin was muttering a low storm of words. "Fascinating, change treated as normal by fellow Collectors, therefore not uncommon occurrence. Perhaps natural development? Another stage in their life-cycle? My omni-tool detected several emissions of energy during change and even now, yet...decreasing at steady rate...last cycle of life perhaps?"

Then the Collector _spoke_, and Mordin's mouth snapped shut.

The words weren't _spoken_, they reverberated through Michael's _mind_...an ominous voice of cruelty and hatred...a voice he _knew_.

"_These humans will be ascended_." The glowing Collector raised its arms...and the others moved towards the children, tapping them with their hands and making them drop limp onto the ground. "_We will perfect them, as we have so many before_."

It _wasn't_ Sovereign, the voice was _different_, _yet_...

Michael found a growl escaping him, burning hatred suddenly surging through him as he saw his foe stand before him.

_Reaper_...

His arm shook, not with fear, but with _rage_, as he raised it and gestured for Mordin to flank left and Kasumi to go right.

_Reaper_...

"_Except for this one_." The burning Collector, the Reaper, strode towards one of the children, clawed finger pointing at him. "_It is faulty, it is of no use_." The arrogance, the calm, the utter disdain for life...Michael remembered it all too well...and straightened with another growl, weapon drawing a bead on the creature. "_It is worthless_."

_Reaper_...

The Collector raised its claw...and a fiery glow grew around it, _fire_ dancing within its hand, ready to be turned upon the child, to immolate him.

_Reaper_!

Michael fired.

The burst struck the Collector square in the head, a flare of a biotic barrier stopping the bullets inches away from it...and the creature's head jerked up, the fire in its claw dying out as it looked up at Michael...

"_Shepard_..." The name was but a hiss in Michael's head...and he could _feel_ its hatred.

Michael's retort was another burst of fire, the shots making the Collector's barrier flare even as the human jumped down from the roof. He landed on one of the Husks, his heavy frame crushing it into the ground with a crack of a snapping spine. The other Husk reached for him...only for Michael to slam his elbow into its face, making its skull crack open and felling the instantly limp creature.

But Michael didn't take his eyes off his _true_ foe...eyes narrowing into slits as he fired a _third_ burst, tearing the barrier of the creature apart.

To his foe's left, Kasumi appeared behind two of the flanking Collector's, her spike smashing through the head of the first while her submachine gun poured bullets into the other.

To his right his last ally fell face first onto the ground, Mordin landing atop it, wiry arms coming round the Collector's arms, his legs around its own, pinning it.

But all Michael saw was his foe, his _nemesis_.

He stalked forward...and the burning Collector raised its claw, fire aglow in it, the arrogance in its voice fuelled by _aeons_ of vile evil. "_Shepard, you will_-"

Michael's shots interrupted it, the burst taking the Collector in the raised arm and making the fire flicker out as it stumbled backwards, flakes of ashes peeling from the injured limb.

"_Shepard, you cannot_-"

_Shut up_.

Michael barely recognised his own growl as he came close, foot flying up and catching his foe square in the chest, bowling it onto its back.

The uninjured arm reached up, fire forming around it, unperturbed by Michael's foot on its chest as he glared down at it. "_Shepard, we cannot be beaten, we will_-"

_Shut up_!

Michael fired, the shots tearing into the skull of the burning Collector, of the _Reaper_, with loud cracks as burning flakes of ash went flying.

_Shut up_!

He _continued_ to fire. Large lumps of blackened Collector flesh coming off its skull, only to smoulder and turn to ash.

_Shut__up_!

The rifle clicked, its rounds expended...even as the creature before him disintegrated, flesh smouldering and crumbling, crumpling into nothing but black ash.

Gone.

Michael stepped back, unable to lower his weapon or to reload as he stared at the black mark upon the grass before him, as if waiting for it to form back into a creature and attack him again.

_Reaper_...

The word formed on his lips...but he wouldn't utter it, wouldn't waste the _air_.

Silence.

Then he spat upon the mark, shaking off the worst of the anger as he forced himself to reload his weapon, to focus back to the present.

Kasumi was staring at him from under her hood, the thief looking a little awkward as she leant against a wall between her two kills, trying to look casual.

Michael ignored her, gaze moving to Mordin as he realised the Salarian was muttering something.

"Fascinating, limbs all pinned, was careful, yet creature died." The Salarian noted, arms and legs untangling from the limp Collector, the creature looking decidedly dead, despite no visible damage to it. "Tried to take captive for live analysis, interrogation, wouldn't let me, yet struggled only for a short time before it realised I was analysing it." A sniff. "Then suicide, fascinating, standard procedure? Willing to kill itself so quickly? A cultural leaning? Brainwashing?"

Michael shook his head, tired.

_Reapers_..._it __is__ the Reapers_...

He wasn't sure if he was relieved to finally be on track...or afraid._ They're still here_...

Next to him Mordin was still babbling. "Suicide destroyed internal organs, no reliable tissue left to analyse, no doubt purpose of suicide, fascinating." Another sniff. "Poison? No, not volatile enough. Acid? No, would need large quantities released simultaneously. Perhaps some inorganic solution? Omni-tool registered spiked values, need to take a look when have the time, should perhaps-"

The comm crackled into life, instantly silencing the Salarian as all looked to Michael, who bowed his head as he tapped his receiver.

The reception was weak, making Miranda's voice a static-filled whisper, but the words still came through. "Repeat, under heavy assault, need reinforcement on our position, pulling back towards point three-oh-six-four. I repeat, under heavy assault..." The words faltered, a burst of fire and the gasp of a dying Collector filling the com-channel.

"This is team two." Michael said, knowing radio-silence would no longer be required. "Ten-four on that, we're moving to your position."

There was no answer, only a crump, an explosion and more gunfire.

Lowering his hand from his helmet Michael thumped his assault rifle for emphasis as he looked at the other two, a savage grimace on his face as the thought of killing more Reaper-serving Collectors surged through him. "You heard the lady, we move!"

And the three ran.

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_Thanks to Abydos Jackson for her help._


	26. Chapter 26

_We're losing control_.

Miranda gritted her teeth, her lungs burning with exertion as she vaulted yet another low wall, the ground around her rising in little puffs of dust as Collector shots pelted the ground around her like rain.

It had gone well at first, the Collectors hadn't known what hit them and Miranda's team had punched down the main road, steam-rolling the scattered opposition. Whether the Husks Miranda knew from Shepard's reports, or the Collectors themselves, the team was a powerhouse of experts with unmatched fire power, none could stand against them.

Then something had..._happened_.

Miranda wasn't sure what, considering the place was a war zone full of activity, things had been _relatively_ calm as they worked their way down the road...

There had been no visible signal, no explosion or loud call.

Only a sudden rush of foes, first it had been a dozen Collectors landing almost right on top of the team, then _two_ dozen, then a _horde_ of husks, then _more_ Collectors.

It was as if someone had stirred an anthill.

Miranda didn't know _who_, or _how_...she only knew that suddenly Collectors were charging in from the front, left and right, swarming over the team in a frenzy.

They had almost died right there, but Miranda's orders had been followed to the letter, even _Jack_ had obeyed. The tactical withdraw had succeeded, stopping the team from getting caught in the sudden crossfire the Collectors had created through sheer force of numbers.

For a brief moment the team had taken down their foes, trying to begin their advance again, but it had been for naught. The Collectors had continued to swarm over them, throwing themselves at the guns of the team like mad and forcing them ever backwards. The team had performed admirably so far, even under enemy fire they had kept moving and covering one another...but by now Miranda's team was in a constant state of retreat...and _slowing down_.

Struggling for air, Miranda looked to her left. On the other side of the open road Garrus had taken cover behind a large dumpster, the Turian ejecting the heat sink out of his sniper rifle, uncaring of the shots ricochetting off it with in flashes of sparks...as well as the blue blood dripping from a wound in his leg.

Jacob was right next to the Turian, the man firing off a blast from his shotgun against a Collector running forth under the covering fire of the others. The creature fell, its chest opening in an explosion of yellow gore, even as Jacob stumbled when his shield failed, the man quickly darting down behind cover again as dark blood began to seep from a cut over his cheek.

A buzzing drew Miranda's attention, her head snapping round to the right...her eyes widening as three Collectors with beating insect-like wings landed on the building next to her, the creatures looking down at her as they levelled their strange weapons...

Then a shout...and explosions of biotic power rushed over the ground, up the wall before slamming into the Collectors, sending all three up in the air. _Damn, now I owe Jack_. Miranda growled even as she exploited the moment, her own biotics flaring up, liquid fire in her veins...and detonated the lingering biotic energy coursing through the Collectors, tearing them apart mid-air.

Coming up in position, Miranda aimed over her cover, the submachine gun in her hand hot, despite her just having changed her heat sink. _We can't keep this up_..._where_ _are_ _you_, _Shepard_! "Covering fire! Grunt! Move!"

Ahead, more Collectors were landing on the road, many ignoring the cover around them as they moved forth, intent on pressing their advantage. _Don't they care about their lives_! Miranda wasn't sure she wanted to know even as she let loose a long burst of fire, tearing two more Collectors apart and halting the advance of three more.

It was needed, even _with_ her covering him Grunt was taking fire as the Krogan moved past Miranda. He had been instrumental in fighting as their rearguard, but he was taking a beating doing so, and though he had so far shrugged off the many wounds that had coloured his armour and skin yellow there was a limit to his regenerative abilities.

And they were reaching it...

A growl...and the Krogan dropped onto one knee as a hail of shots struck his back, the monster coughing blood with a grimace of annoyance even as more shots poured into him.

_Not too late, risk of helping is smaller then the loss of not doing so_! Miranda made a face, not at all happy with the hint of stress in her analysis as she waved her hand forth. "Zaeed! Pull Grunt back!" She spotted the main source of the fire Grunt was taking, three Collectors standing atop a building to the far right, the creatures using a relay dish as cover while pouring shots after the retreating team. "Garrus! Priority targets at one o'clock!"

Cursing, the mercenary rushed forth, ducking all the way as the ground around him was pelted with enemy fire, then grabbed a hold of the struggling Krogan as the two stumbled towards the rear of the team's disintegrating line. Meanwhile, Garrus came up, rifle barking and sending one of the Collectors falling off the building ahead with nary a rattle escaping it.

Only for an orb of fire to come flying, striking the Turian in the chest and knocking him onto his back with a pained grunt even as his hands came up to bat away the fire.

_Dammit_!

Still struggling to get into cover Zaeed and Grunt both growled out curses of pain as shots poured over them...they wouldn't last.

_It's far away, and I'll be exposed_...

Miranda looked around...and knew none else had the time or ability, all were too overwhelmed to help...

She leapt to her feet, both hands on the submachine gun to steady it as she took aim on the distant target of the two sniping Collectors, fully expecting her shield to flare up as every other foe coming at them opened up on her.

But none did.

Instead she found herself staring straight into four eyes of a Collector right in front of her...four _glowing_ eyes. Smoke was rising from its twisted form, a twisted form that was engulfed in _fire_.

_No_..._it's burning from the inside_...

_What_ _the_...

Miranda's hesitation was all it needed. A clawed right hand swung, leaving a glowing trail as it came at her...and only Miranda's instincts was what made it strike her raised forearm rather then her face.

It was like being struck by a sledge.

Crying out, she stumbled back, her left hand releasing her gun as the entire limb went numb...turning the cry into a growl she swung her weapon to bear with her other hand, lining up her shot...

The Collector's left hand shot forth, an orange bolt crossing the distance between them in less then the blink of an eye.

Agony!

Miranda screamed, the weapon falling from her hand as both came to clutch at her struck abdomen. Her legs gave up, felling her onto her knees as the pain rolled over her in waves, turning the world into a distant buzzing as her skin burnt with whatever had struck her...

Pain!

Gasping she opened her mouth to breathe...only to find herself coughing as the heat of the air seemed to suck all oxygen away from her, making her shudder even as she smelled burnt flesh, _her_ flesh.

She looked up, unable to move, to defend herself, as the strange Collector stepped forth. Its glowing eyes looked down at her even while shots arched around it as the battle continued around them...a battle it ignored as it spoke. "_Where_ _is_ _Shepard_?"

Miranda gasped, the words were like a needle, a needle pushing into her skull. The voice was dark and ominous...and echoed within her mind, uncaring of invading such a sanctum, of the pain it caused. She _felt_ it, in its mind she was but a mote of dust...to be crushed at will...or to have her brain flayed by one who's power she couldn't comprehend.

It dug into her skull, claws and tendrils of darkness tearing into her, paralysing her as it searched...

She gasped for air again, this time drawing in enough into her lungs to manage a shaky croak. "W-what?"

"_Give us Shepard_." The creature retorted, making her squeeze her eyes shut in agony as the voice tore into her yet again...and this time accompanied by a clawed food smashing into her chest.

Pain!

Miranda cried out, dropping onto her back as the heat of the kicking foot lingered upon her aching ribs. Blinking away the pain she looked up though, desperately drawing upon her biotics as she glared up at the creature. "I w-will _never_..."

"_Shepard_." The creature lunged down for her, left hand gripping at the front of her suit, pulling her towards it as it glared down at her and shook her. The shake rattled Miranda's pained mind...and she could only scream in frustration as the biotic energy left her veins unused...a scream it ignored as it shook her again. "_It is useless to resist_. _Give us Shepard_."

The claws within her mind tore into her, _deeper_, lances of ice shredding her, tearing around in her insides, wanting, needing, _demanding_...

Miranda froze, staring up at the creature. _Shepard can handle himself, if I tell it they might change course and we might have time to regroup and_...

She found herself snarling, the thought disgusting her. It was not only _foolish_, but against all she fought for! Cerberus had spent two years in resurrecting the man, had put unlimited resources in helping him against the greatest threat humanity had ever encountered! Without him...the fight was lost, for Cerberus _and_ humanity, Miranda _knew_ that.

_Loyalty to humanity goes above __all_...

She raised her chin, forcing the agony in her mind aside with a force of will, _willing_ the pain of her injured body to become something distant...

_Humanity does not bow, not even in death, know __that__ alien_...

"No."

The creature froze...perhaps in surprise, perhaps in amusement...but only for a moment, the next it raised its other claw, orange fire growing within the palm, summoned as if by magic. Its voice was somehow even darker now, a growl of hatred. "_You will know pain_..."

Miranda glared back, she didn't _want_ to see it coming, she didn't _want_ to see her death...but she forced herself to look back, unwilling to give the creature the satisfaction of seeing her flinch. _I have lived through much pain, I can do it again_... Her gaze darted to the glowing light, the fire there coiling around the cruel claws, as if a living thing. _I __can_...

A fist crashed into the Collector's head.

Miranda blinked, watching as the creature was slammed off her and onto the road, Michael following as the man drew his pistol mid-stride, his left fist following the example of the right as it too struck the Collector's head in an explosion of fiery sparks.

The glow surrounding its right fist only grew, the creature steadying itself as it regarded the man...who glared back with an intense hatred Miranda had never seen before.

Then the voice, now a hiss of loathing. "_You will feel this_." Its right hand shot forth, the burning energy shooting forth...

Michael swiftly stepped forth, left arm coiling around the outstretched arm before its hand gripped onto the shoulder of the Collector...and the ball of fire harmlessly flew through the air as the firing hand remained pinned under Michael's armpit.

A growl...and Michael slammed the barrel of his gun into the inside of the pinned arm's elbow...and the Collector's forearm came off in an explosion of ash and fire from the shot.

The Collector stumbled back, one arm nothing but disintegrating ash...and its other arm reaching towards Michael even as it spoke. "_This body is irrelevant_."

Michael's reply was to duck low in a sweeping kick, knocking the legs out from underneath the burning Collector and dropping it onto its back before he rose to tower over it, pistol levelled at its head.

Its hand still reached up, at him, clawed fingers curling as it hissed. "_One will slay you, you cannot win_."

Two shots...and the Collector's head came apart, the whole creature jerking where it lay as the body begun to disintegrate, becoming nothing but ash.

Forcing her head to turn, Miranda tried to get a look at what was happening elsewhere, trying to get a view of the tactical situation.

The Collectors up on the roof that had been such a nuisance lay dead atop the building, their place taken by Kasumi as the thief poured shots down upon the suddenly outflanked Collectors.

Down below her two Collectors fell, one nothing but a flailing torch, the other's skull coming off when a burst of fire tore through its neck. Mordin appeared a second later, ignoring the still flailing Collector as he calmly sent a burst of shots down the road.

With their leader gone, the Collector assault had lost its edge, and pinned between the two further back and the now counter-attacking team they'd been chasing they were dropping like flies, unable to find any cover that didn't expose them to fire from one or the other side.

_Good_...

Miranda breathed out, unable to sit she dropped back onto the ground, eyes closing, her body feeling oddly light as she lay on her back, the sound of the dying battle barely registering to her.

Then a hand was underneath her back, another pressing something cold and sharp against her abdomen...

A pinprick of pain...and she felt fresh energy flood her as the familiar feel of administered medi-gel filled her body...Miranda gasped in relief as the pain faded away, being replaced by nothing but a dull throbbing as her flesh mended at an amazing rate.

Her eyes fluttered open, finding Michael still holding her even as his pistol, now in his left hand since his right was still underneath her back, fired a round at something she couldn't see, the shot answered by a meaty thud of a falling foe.

"That bastard never shuts up..." He muttered...and Miranda wasn't sure who he was referring to. She sat up, realising the battle was more or less over, Michael's voice demanding attention she could not give. "Are you okay?"

She managed a nod, hand coming up to rub her face as she reached for her gun and picked it up, body feeling a little awkward as she forced herself to stand up and look around, trying to get an overview of the situation.

There were corpses of Collectors everywhere, many curling up in death like insects, their yellow blood covering the asphalt of the road as well as the grass on either side of it. The rest of the team seemed...well... Grunt was shaking off his injuries with a snort, most of his wounds already closing, and Zaeed was cursing more about a broken plate in his armour then over the small wound underneath. Even Garrus, his breastplate scorched severely, didn't look worse for wear.

Miranda nodded, pleased. "This is more then okay, no casualties or severe injuries, we can proceed and-"

"No." Michael stopped her, making her turn to look the man as he rose to his feet, a serious look on his face as he gazed at her. "It _spoke_ to you, didn't it? So I'll ask again, are you okay?"

Miranda blinked.

_Wha_...? The concern was out of place, had nothing to do with her performance, with their goal. He could see that she was now healed, that she was ready to proceed...yet the question still stood..._apparently_. _I_ _don't_..._know what you're asking_...

She thought back, the memory of the pain from the burn far too fresh in her mind, the memory of that voice piercing her very _soul_...

She shuddered, mind retreating from the memory, unwilling to focus on it.

Yet Shepard was still looking at her, waiting for an answer, looking...honestly concerned. _But he __knows__ I'm more then able to continue_! _The rest isn't important, why would he even_...

She gave up, the strange concept of concern without a real _need_ for it just confusing her.

Instead she forced a smile, shrugging awkwardly. "I am fine, Commander..." _What does one say when_..._come now_..._you've heard civilians say it_... "...thank you for your concern."

His gaze lingered on her, searching for...deceit? Pain? She wasn't sure...

Then he looked away, nodding. "If you say so...you're pale as a ghost though."

Miranda blinked yet again, surprised._ I am_? _Blood_ _loss_? _No_..._can't be that much_... Her hand came up before her face...and she realised with a start that it was shaking._ Why is it_...

Again, her mind shied away, away from the memory of that...voice, no...of that intrusion, those _claws_ trying to pry her secrets away, tearing through her mind for the information it...

_Don't think about it_!

She quickly looked away, hiding her pained grimace as she forced herself to move forward, pushing the pain away, forcing it deep within her where it belonged. _Dammit, at least Cerberus never asks those questions_..._he needs to learn to mind his own business_...

"I am _fine_ Commander, now, we should continue..."

8

8

8

_Thanks to Abydos Jackson._


	27. Chapter 27

"Miranda, the computer!"

Michael gestured towards the centre of the field where the unfinished building, though sporting the computer they needed, showed that Horizon's colonists had yet to finish this part of their colony...as if the many large boxes doting the field wasn't enough of a hint.

There was no time to think about it though, Collectors were already moving in on them after the team had managed to lose them among a few buildings...and were moving in with force.

Ahead, Miranda was making a run for the computer, the woman's legs pumping and her head bowed low even as Husks came at the exposed target from all sides.

"Zaeed, Grunt, on me!" Michael called out the order even as he moved forward, taking up a wide stance behind one of the boxes and sending a burst of shots into one of the Husks while Zaeed and Grunt took down two more. "Garrus, left! Take position on top of the truck!" There was no time to check if the Turian was obeying the order, nor a need to as Michael's orders continued to pour out. "Jacob, incoming on right!"

There were indeed three Collectors coming flying over a building on the right...but with a haze of biotic energy closing around them they were hurled back with their alien cries of anger and then pain.

"Take cover and protect Miranda!"

All along their skirmish line the team were moving into position, guns barking in a cacophony of sounds as they tore into Husks that were pouring in from all sides, all of them heading for the woman now coming to a skidding stop in front of the computer, fingers already tapping away to open the controls to the colony's defence turrets.

Moaning, three Husks came rushing towards Miranda's back...only to break in two as an incendiary grenade turned them and the ground they stood on into smouldering pieces. If Miranda felt the heat of the blast the woman didn't show it, her gaze intent on the computer.

"Collectors! On the left!" Garrus called out even as half a dozen of the creatures landed on the ground there, their rifles jerking up to target Miranda and stop what she was doing.

"Jack!" Michael didn't need to say anything more...the energy was already on its way before he'd spoken the name. Sheer biotic _power_ surged diagonally across the field, sending boxes heavy enough to stump _Grunt _flying...right into the creatures.

With gasps and cries the Collectors were struck by the flying boxes...before becoming crushed against the building behind them, turning into nothing but yellow smears and pieces of broken exoskeleton.

Yet another Husk came charging at Miranda's back...only for Kasumi to appear out of stealth right behind it, the spike shooting out of her gauntlet slamming into the thing's back and through its torso, stopping it a mere breath from Miranda's back. Miranda didn't seem to notice.

Nor did Kasumi notice the Husk about to pounce on _her_ back...only for its head to be struck by Garrus' sniping rifle, the heavy shot sending the creature flying with a cracked skull.

"Done!" Miranda whirled about, gaze momentarily taking in the mounds of corpses around her...before she began to run back towards the rest of the team, Kasumi hot on her heels even as the sky behind them became filled with the growing shapes of more Collectors...

Many landed at the other edge of the field, moving to take cover. Yet others flew forward, heading straight for the exposed pair, ignoring the fact that they themselves became easy targets as they began to fire down upon the two women.

Michael, Grunt and Zaeed aimed as one...and squeezed the triggers of their assault rifles, sending a stream of shots up into the sky like some ancient air-defence.

Four Collectors almost instantly fell, three of them dead, the fourth bouncing atop a box as it twisted and turned in agony, one of its wings nothing but a gory mess.

Jack's biotics too flared...and the three foremost Collectors were hurled upwards, their bodies becoming nothing but dark dots in the sky.

One leapt right at Miranda's back, clawed hands extended...only for it to fall short, part of its head coming off as the crack of Garrus' rifle echoed over the field.

Kasumi was not so lucky. As Miranda jumped over a box, taking cover from the shots suddenly coming at her...Kasumi shrieked as two Collector's dropped atop her, the creatures closing their claws on her arms as they yanked her backwards.

Jacob's shotgun barked...and the one grabbing her left arm fell, one of its arms nothing but gore. A moment later the other fell, Miranda's shot took it in one of its eyes. The creature wouldn't release Kasumi though, dragging her down on the grass while she desperately kicked and pulled away from it.

Another shriek escaped her, her hand coming up to ward of the incoming blows as three more Collectors came down upon her...

Only for biotic energy to close around them, yanking them over her head and right towards the still glowing Jacob...whose shotgun tore one in half even as he slammed his shoulder into the second, dropping it into the grass like a sack of potatoes.

The third flew past the man, bounced against the box Michael was covering behind and, since he was busy reloading, found its neck opening in a fountain of yellow blood as Michael _grabbed_ and _wrenched_.

Wiping away the blood splattered over his visor, Michael found Kasumi being pulled into cover by Jacob even as his shield flared with multiple impacts. The Collectors that hadn't made for a flying charge moved up the field, covering one another with their strange rifles as they moved from cover to cover.

Making room for _more_...

Michael watched, seeing more and more black dots appear ahead as they flew from the Collector cruiser to engage Michael and his team. _We're running out of time_... "EDI, are the turrets online yet!"

Her synthetic voice was annoyingly calm as it came through the com. "If they were they would be firing, Shepard. Hold position, it will be but a moment."

"I don't see you down here with a gun..." Michael muttered even as he switched his assault rifle on his back in favour of the sniper rifle...then raised his voice. "Alright, people! We hold! None of them will _touch_ that computer!"

The Collectors weren't even trying though, their focus solely on the team as they continued their advance, a storm of shots flying between the two forces.

"Grunt, go right! Zaeed, left! Hold the flanks!" Ahead, Collector after advancing Collector fell, Garrus' rifle felling them with near mechanical precision, slowing down their advance as Michael tried to redeploy the troops. "Jack with Zaeed! Miranda with Grunt! Kasumi, I want you stealthing to the right and into a flanking position!"

Michael's orders came out in a stream as he himself aimed down his sight, two shots in a row taking one foe in the chest and sending it tumbling. "And where the hell is Mordin!"

"Here." Turning Michael found the Salarian jogging up to him, the alien's armour stained yellow by Collector blood. "Analysis of incapacitated Husk was completed." A sniff as Mordin patted the blood on his chest. "Was held up, however, patrol of Collectors, had to kill several, tricked others into-"

"Tell me _later_!" Michael snapped, hand shooting out to grab a hold of the Salarian's shoulder and yanking him into cover. "Now get over here and kill something!

Mordin's mouth moved in a retort, but the words were lost in the thunderous blast of a defence turret firing.

_Yes_!

Turning, Michael watched as turret after turret turned to aim at the Collector cruiser before jerking on their mounting with the power of their shots. The powerful projectiles instantly covered the distance and impacted with their target with great blasts of blossoming explosions.

The Collector cruiser was tough, though...any other vessel would be coming apart by now...so far the only sign of damage on their target was pieces of the rocks that seemed to be _part_ of the cruiser falling off...

Ahead, the dark spots seemed to stop growing...and then diminish in size as they turned back. _They're retreating_... "We have them now! Take no chances and wear these last ones out!"

Before them, two Collectors tried to flee, flying out of their cover to fly back...only for one to fall as it became aflame with a blast of energy from Mordin. The other managed a few more feet...and then fell as well, hurtled into the ground with a crunch as Miranda's body glowed with biotic power.

The others stayed, fighting to the death, which came _swiftly_. Whether from fired shots or biotic force they fell, one after the other, as their cruiser began to move upwards.

Michael lowered his rifle, hand yanking out a spent heat sink and slamming in another out of habit even as he watched...

With a roar that made the blasts of the turrets seem like whispers the cruiser's engines powered up, sending the massive ship moving upwards, faster and faster despite the blasts covering it as more and more projectiles slammed into it.

Then...it was gone.

Michael stared, half expecting it to come back...but there was nothing but the crackling of a fading storm left behind by the cruiser...and a curious silence.

No drones remained, no Collectors, no firing turrets...just...

A deafening silence.

Michael straightened, putting his rifle back into place...and found a grin sneaking itself onto his face as the natural feeling of relief flooded him.

_They got most of the colonists_. The thought drained the grin away, muting him as the others cheered and exchanged smiles. _What little we learnt_..._it wasn't worth the cost_.

His face was grim as he looked after the cruiser. _They will pay_...

Then a voice brought him out of his thoughts, a voice he had _never_ thought he'd hear again. "Commander..."

He turned, the grim look turning to one of shock as he saw _him_...

Kaidan.

The man was slowly moving towards Michael, his armour scuffed and here and there sporting blotches of yellow Collector blood. And his _face_...

It was _there_.

The same face Michael had known to associate the man with, the same face he had seen peeled from the man's head by Saren so long ago...it was _there_.

Though not _quite_...Michael couldn't put his finger on it...but there was something _off_ about the face, the chin just a bit too wide, the skin a bit too taut...it was as if he was wearing a mask that didn't quite fit him.

Still...medical science had done a miracle, and Michael found himself smiling in relief at the sight...though the relief quickly faded as he remembered their parting, their harsh words, the history that was like a dark gulf between them.

He swallowed, taking a step towards the man as Kaidan came to a stop. "Lieutenant..."

"Staff Commander now..." The man replied, eyeing his former Commander with a look Michael couldn't quite read. "...it really _is_ you..."

"I..." _What am I supposed to_..._I don't know what to say_. "...yes."

He could feel Garrus step closer, the Turian standing right behind him...and judging by the way Kaidan hesitated the Turian wasn't giving him too friendly a look.

Kaidan looked over Michael's shoulder, offering Garrus a polite, if not too friendly, nod...and then looked at the others, eyebrow arching. "And..._interesting_ company you keep..." He didn't sound pleased.

"Curious." Mordin chimed in, making Michael internally groan. "Drones paralysed all others, you remain, how did you avoid them?"

Kaidan offered the Salarian a small smile, his eyes tired. "Made a small biotic field around me...they couldn't reach me." He looked back to Michael, shrugging. "Not that I could save as many...as you."

Was there an accusation there? Michael couldn't tell, and held up his hand to silence the question about to escape Mordin's mouth as he replied. "You did what you could."

"I...yes." Kaidan grimaced, as did Michael, as the words brought back the memory of Virmire far too clearly. "Sir...I..."

"It's not sir to you, Kaidan..." Michael looked away, feeling...was it shame? He wasn't sure, he felt...confused.

"Michael." The changed tone, so _set_, made him look back to Kaidan. The man looked back...and took a deep breath.

Silence.

"I don't..." Kaidan bit his lower lip, looking away before taking another deep breath. "...I don't blame you any more..."

Silence.

Michael managed to blink, his mouth moving until he caught his voice. "I...thank you."

"Your death brought me...peace, I suppose." Behind Michael, Garrus growled at Kaidan's words, but the human ignored them as he looked back to Michael. "But also distance, I could _think_ about what happened and..." He shook his head. "...it wasn't your fault, none of it."

Guilt.

Now it was Michael's turn to bite his lower lip as he shuddered. "It was my responsibility, I could have...I don't know..."

"No, you couldn't." Kaidan replied, a hint of bitterness in his voice...before he visibly shook it off. "I have...moved on, Si- Michael."

"I...see..." Michael replied, unsure how to respond. _Does that make us friends_? It didn't look like that though, Kaidan's gaze was...vary. "I...am happy for you." _But_ _why_... Michael _had_ to ask. "You don't seem as surprised to see me as I'd imagined you'd be..."

"We had heard...rumours." Was the reply, Kaidan looking conflicted.

"Rumours?" Miranda suddenly chimed in, tone sharp. "_What_ rumours?"

Kaidan narrowed his eyes at her, hands momentarily closing into fists.

Then he looked back to Michael, ignoring the woman, much to her annoyance Michael imagined. "We had heard you were revived..._and_ working for Cerberus." He glanced past Michael. "Seems the rumours were correct."

"Not _for_, _alongside_." Michael corrected, though it felt like splitting hairs now that he stood before Kaidan. "You saw all this? The Collectors, who work for the _Reapers_, are hitting human colonies...and Cerberus is offering help, _real_ help. I _had_ to take the chance...it's for the good of all."

Kaidan gave him an even look...and Michael felt himself inching backwards under the scrutiny, feeling guilty. _The way to hell is paved with good intentions_... Michael couldn't connect to his religion any more...but the saying..._stung_. "We heard Cerberus was _helping_ the Collectors."

"Helping? That makes no sense." Miranda growled in annoyance. "Cerberus _protects_ humanity."

"That was the rumour..." Kaidan shrugged, looking weary as he regarded Michael. "That's why they sent me here, the rumours hinted that Cerberus had shown interest in this planet, so we figured the Collectors might be hitting it...or that _you_ would show up...and _here_ we are, if I didn't..." He shook his head. "...it fits too well, Michael, but for all that...I _know_ you, the story doesn't work for _me_."

Michael stared at Kaidan, a feeling of horror digging into his gut as realisation dawned on him. "So...the rumours brought you here...and then the Collectors hit..." _Because you were once on my team_... He looked up, after the Collector cruiser with its many colonists...and felt his gut tighten. "...because of _us_..."

He found his hands ball into fists.

_Because_ _of_ _us_...

"I don't know exactly why they hit this planet, Shepard." Kaidan replied, shaking his head even as he turned. "But my work is done, I have a report to write...I...hope you know what you're doing."

Michael looked after Kaidan, wanting to call out, to say...something _more_. But all he managed was a whisper. "As do I..."

_Because of __us_!

The thought made him whirl around, eyes shooting lightning at the others, his sudden change of mood making them flinch back.

His voice was a low growl. "Let's go...I have...a _discussion_ waiting..."

8

8

8

"You will _never_ do this again!"

Miranda flinched as she stood resting against a wall in the Normandy's communication room, watching Michael as he spoke to the Illusive man.

Though _speaking_ was a generous interpretation...

So far the man had been walking back and forth, shouting, _screaming_ even...and Miranda was almost impressed by the _volume_ of sound the man was capable of. "I swear on my _own_ fucking grave that if you _ever_ try this shit again I will take your organisation and tear it to pieces! Then I'll offer _you_ to the damn Collectors and _you'll_ see how much fun it is being the pawn in someone else's schemes!"

Miranda made a face, looking away as she imagined the Illusive man's reply. She knew what he would say, that it was for the greater good, that this way they knew what colony the Collector's would hit, that they needed to strike back and that required _bait_. It was horrifying, _monstrous_...but _necessary_...she knew it...she didn't like it, but she knew it.

Michael stopped momentarily in his marching, finger shooting out to point at the Illusive man. "Don't give me that _shit_! You knew _fully_ well what would happen! And you're not even _sorry_! You have hundreds of thousands of lives on your conscience by _this_ action _alone_! How many _more_ do you have! How many _necessary_ sacrifices are needed before you're _satisfied_!"

_As many as are needed_... Miranda looked away, biting her lower lip. For all his ability...Michael seemed intent not to agree with the necessary decisions. _Though_..._it_ _had_ _been_ _harsh_...

"That is _your_ call!" Michael snapped, beginning his march again, face a mask of fury."But you used _my_ name for this! You involved _me_! You let _me_ share your crime! _That_ is not _your_ call! _Especially_ not with something as _disgusting_ as this! You make _tough_ choices...but choices for _others_! Choices that gets them _killed_!"

Miranda shuddered, the condemning words were hard...and struck her as well; she knew the arguments, she had argued with herself more then once about it. Every time logic won out, the Illusive man _was_ correct when it came down to it...

Yet to hear Michael shout with such anger...it made her old doubts reappear, digging at her heart.

Before her Michael was quiet now, listening, fuming.

Then he jabbed his finger forward, voice a low growl. "You call yourself a defender of humanity, of _humans_, but what the hell are _you_? This was _not_ human...you do not _deserve_ the title."

Silence, Michael listening.

And then he shook his head, turning and walking out of the ring of light. "Sure, whatever, we're done here."

Miranda watched him...and the man came to a stop next to her, mouth a thin line as he stared straight ahead.

He turned his head, and Miranda was unable to meet his gaze. "If I ever meet your boss in person...he will die."

"Y-you're still helping us...aren't you?" Miranda cursed her stuttering, but the condemnation in his eyes was surprisingly strong...and pushed her off balance.

"Of course I am." The man muttered, brushing past her. "_I_, after all, _am_ human."

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_Thanks to Abydos Jackson for her dedicated work._


	28. Chapter 28

Garrus had gone mad.

Or so he figured. It could, after all, be the only reason for him to _actively_ seek out Kelly Chambers.

So there he was, exiting the elevator and stepping towards the galaxy map and the woman's back a few feet away.

_I must __really__ be bored_...

Pondering the thought, Garrus realised that was probably the reason for his foolish decision to seek out the psychiatrist. There was only _so_ much one could do on the ship after all...and Garrus had _already_ fine-tuned the guns of the Normandy, polished the scuffs out of his armour and cleaned his weapons...

And since he wasn't _Tali_ and couldn't _do_ the mechanical and engineering tasks there only remained talking to others really...or sitting alone with his thoughts, which he _really_ didn't want to do.

Back on Omega there would have been the others of the team to talk to, good men and women, now dead...besides the _rotten_ one of course. Garrus stopped mid-stride to gnash his teeth at the thought, but brushed it aside, not wanting to get caught in anger by Kelly..._again_...it only led to annoying questions.

But on the _new_ Normandy there were few people to talk to, the two friendly engineers were constantly busy, the rest of the staff were polite but little else. Mordin was _very_ busy, Grunt annoying and Miranda cold as ice. Jacob was nice enough...but the man was probably busy going through the armoury since Horizon if Garrus knew the man right, which also put Michael out of the picture, the Commander no doubt working in a frenzy to find more people to recruit and more leads on the Collector's. Garrus wasn't on friendly enough terms to go talk to Kasumi about nothing, Joker and Chakwas would _both_ give him a headache, though admittedly for different reasons. As to Jack and Zaeed...neither was really the sociable _type_...

Which left...Kelly.

Garrus came to a halt a few feet behind the human, already regretting his decision even as he spoke. "Kelly?"

The woman turned, face breaking into a smile. "Oh hello, Garrus! I didn't expect you here."

_Neither did I_. "Just...stopping by, I suppose." He hesitated, awkward under the gaze of the green eyes studying him. "Bored, I guess." He offered a shrug, realising how rude he must sound.

The woman made no hint she took offence though, gesturing for the desk she was leaning her back on. "Well come then, I'm here to help." Seeing his frown she quickly shot her hands up in placation. "As a friend, of course, not professionally."

_We're friends_? Garrus nodded, moving up next to the human as she turned, resting her elbows on the triangular desk surrounding the glowing galaxy map, her eyes looking over the slowly turning crescent of lights. Garrus imitated her, unsure what to say now that he was there._ Great, instead of being bored down below, you're now bored __and__ awkward with the annoying one_..._I really am a moron_.

Kelly didn't seem bothered by the silence, then again most things didn't seem to bother her. Her worried tone made light work of the awkward atmosphere however, her caring genuine, _shamming_ Garrus who had just come to her out of boredom. "I heard it was rough down there, are you...okay?"

He coughed, managing a shrug. "Huh? Oh, well...had worse missions, not _many_, but a few..." _What am I supposed to say_?

"Well you don't look hurt at least." Kelly noted with a hint of relief, further shamming Garrus. _Spirits, this was a bad idea_...

"Yeah." He grimaced, gesturing for his face. "Not a single scar this time."

Kelly moved to speak...but didn't.

_Oh for_..._I should just shoot myself_! _Great work, Garrus, __really_!_ I know conversation isn't my strong suite, but this is ridiculous_...

Garrus looked away, letting the silence stretch, unsure what else to do.

"You know..." Again Kelly broke the silence, her tone as careful as it was low. "...there are surgical..."

"No." Garrus snapped, refusing to look back as he squeezed his eyes shut, annoyed with himself. _So you came to her to talk, while wanting to talk about anything __but__ that_..._and_ _what_ _do_ _you_ _do_...? "It should stay."

"A reminder, I get it." Kelly muttered, yet again not put off by Garrus' harsh tone. _Dammit_... "Though...you should only keep it if that's all it is, if you think it's a mark of a shame or you..." Garrus head snapped round to glare at her...and Kelly _laughed_! "Oh, sorry!" She raised a hand, still chuckling as Garrus blinked. "_Not_ being a psychiatrist it is...really, _sorry_, it's a bit hard to turn that off at times."

"Yeah..." Garrus nodded, understanding _far_ too well what she meant._ Change the subject, idiot_. "I heard someone saying they heard Michael shouting...what was that about?"

"Oh? The Commander had _words_ with the Illusive man..." Kelly grimaced. "Not that I blame him, it's good to know we have a Commander willing to think morally as well as strategically, makes the crew feel safer I suppose. Though he _really_ could have dropped the volume a few decibels..."

"He's just on edge." Garrus shook it off. "Knowing it really is the Reapers working with the Collectors...well the guy handles _most_ things easily nowadays, but he takes them _very_ seriously. Still, it'll be nice to thwart them again."

"It's good to know we have men with _experience_ fighting massive sentient _starships_..." Kelly smirked at him...before her face turned serious. "There's some in the crew already calling the trip through the Omega four Relay, if we even _get_ to that point, a suicide mission. They're not about to refuse doing the trip but...is it _really_ that grim?"

Garrus hesitated, unsure how to respond. _She'll just see through any lies_..._damn_ _shrinks_. "An uncharted territory and advanced technology of the Collectors, not to mention great numbers...with the right specialists and preparations, we can take them...with Michael leading, our chances go further up. But...there _will_ be casualties. Michael will claim he would never allow it, but he won't be able to stop it from happening."

Kelly nodded, looking surprisingly pleased. "Thank you for the honest answer, Garrus, none on the ship expects it to be easy. They'll be ready when the time comes."

Again, Garrus hesitated. "Are you...coming along? Excuse me for saying it, but a shrink at a final military deployment won't be of much use...you might as well stay, no need to risk yourself pointlessly."

"Pointlessly?" Kelly repeated, arching an eyebrow. _Is she offended_?_ It's hard to tell with humans_... "What kind of person would I be if I talked to and helped people accept the risks they were going into...and then not go myself? I would feel like a hypocrite, no, I'll go and do what I can."

_Huh_... Garrus blinked.

And Kelly offered a smirk.

Shaking off the surprise, Garrus collected himself. "Well...that's impressive, but I fail to see why-"

"Sir, I really must protest."

Miranda's voice startled Garrus out of the conversation, the Turian looking up in time to see the door to the elevator open as Michael stalked forth, closely followed by the Cerberus woman...who didn't look too pleased.

Then again, she _rarely_ did, and judging by what Michael had told Garrus she often disagreed with his decisions, and _told_ him so. Yet it wasn't often she did so in _public_...

Curious, Garrus watched as Michael turned and stopped with a sigh...only to find Miranda jab a finger in front of his face. "Illium is not only less jumps away but currently the location of _two_ of the people we're looking for, _that_ is the logical option."

Michael waited...and Miranda huffed, finished. "Illium holds two of them, yes. One an assassin with vast experience in hiding in public and civilized areas, the other an Asari Justicar, _revered_ by the Asari that is the _majority_ of the population on Ilium. _Both_ of them are relatively _safe_. Tali on the other hand is on _Haestrom_, that's _Geth_ territory, and I don't need to remind you that organics, _especially_ Quarians, are less then welcome there."

_Tali_... Garrus stood straighter, suddenly _intent_ on the conversation across the room.

"Which _means_ that with two _extra_ set of capable hands we'd be in a _better_ position to extract them...Commander." Miranda retorted, crossing her arms over her chest and looking greatly annoyed.

"By that time she might be d..." Michael's mouth slammed shut for a moment, his hands twitching...and Garrus found his own doing the same, loyalty to his old crew-mate squeezing his heart._ We will __not__ let that happen_. "We're going to Haestrom, end of discussion."

_Good_... Garrus nodded, pleased.

Miranda on the other hand was shaking her head, still annoyed. "But, Commander..."

"Listen." Michael interrupted, stepping closer, his voice turning to a whisper Garrus could only hear through great concentration. "I know you want to go there now, but she's safe in Cerberus protection, when we get there we'll get to that right away, you have my _word_..."

_What is he talking about_?

Miranda, however, seemed to know...and grimaced even as she offered a reluctant nod and took a step backwards. "I...yes Commander, as you say..." She moved to say something else...but stopped herself and turned to briskly walk back to the elevator.

Michael didn't waste time looking after her, his steps equally brisk as he moved towards Joker, intent on giving the order in person. _And probably crack the whip a bit_..._can't blame him_. Garrus smiled.

"Tali, huh?" Turning his head he found Kelly looking at him with a curious look on her face. "Wasn't she with you guys while hunting Saren?"

"That's right." Garrus nodded, a hint of pride in his voice as he continued. "Finest Quarian you'll ever meet. She did _half_ the engineering work on the old Normandy by _herself_ and _still_ fought with the ground team whenever it came to it. Hell, saved our lives more then a couple of times, even _Michael's_."

"Oh...sounds like someone has a crush..." Kelly eyed Garrus mischievously...

Who spluttered. "What? No! I'd..._no_!" He shook his head, realising he was protesting too hard, making the woman all the more amused. "No, if anyone does, it's Michael..." He nodded back after the man now hanging on Joker's chair, looking as if he'd stay there the entire journey through. For all Garrus knew...he _would_. "...poor fool."

Kelly didn't answer, looking at him curiously as Garrus felt his mood drop.

"It was a long hunt, you know, people got...close. Tali, Ashley and Michael...that was just a mess, made all the worse by Michael not realising what Tali wanted." Garrus shook his head, finding a small smile on his face at the memory. "He was such a moron about it, I'm pretty sure it took him by surprise..." The smile faded. "...it went bad with Ashley dying...but then a little better. I mean the team actually hoped they'd..." He shrugged, annoyed with himself. "...anyway, it came to nothing when Michael died, end of story."

"I doubt that's the end of the story..." Kelly replied, offering a small smile. "Come on, think positive."

Garrus blinked. "Riiight...I'll leave that to you. I just know that Tali's already in a bad place, and I don't mean Haestrom, she's in the middle of Geth space and about to be rescued by an organisation she loathes and a man she doesn't want to see...but you keep thinking positive thoughts."

"Ah." Kelly grinned at him, unperturbed by his words. "You're grumpy today."

"I am _not_...!" Garrus took a deep breath, shaking his head. _Frustrating_..._woman_! "I'm just being realistic, this won't be pretty...even _if_ we get her out _alive_."

And Kelly just kept on smiling. "It'll be okay."

"Wha...how can you _possibly_ know that!"

She shrugged, smile never fading for a moment. "I just do, it'll work out."

Garrus found his face dropping into his palms as he leant his elbows against the table, shaking his head. "_Why_ did I come up here?"

"Because you wanted to hear it will all be okay."

"Argh!"

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_Thanks to Abdyso Jackson for all her dedicated work._


	29. Chapter 29

Even in the shade the heat was palpable.

Michael's face was grim as the main team deployed under the shadow of a building and Miranda found her gaze moving away from him in favour of the buildings around them.

It was...an eerie sight.

As always, Miranda had studied the planet extensively in preparation for their drop. She knew it was one of the colonies of the Quarians before they had been driven away, in fact it had been a scientific outpost of impressive size...though the lack of military there had made it an easy target during the Geth uprising.

Yet such written facts never quite compared to the reality of it.

All around them the Quarian buildings, largely intact save the odd shattered window or scorch mark, rose up towards the burning sun. A mute testament to the former glories of a race that were nothing but vagrants any longer, a testament...and a warning._ EDI wouldn't do this_..._she's shackled, but if she wasn't_... Miranda shuddered at the thought.

Miranda wasn't frightened by the sight of so many empty buildings. Though...it _was_ a scary sight, she could acknowledge that. The city had once held maybe a million Quarians...living, laughing, eating, all _without_ the suits they now were synonymous with...

And now all that remained were the empty husks they had lived in, a quiet tomb.

Miranda shuddered once more.

Yet things _weren't_ quiet any more. Above her the shuttle shuddered, the sound of its engines powering up making the air rush around them as it hurtled up towards space and the waiting Normandy. There was another sound further off, that of the M-fourty-four Hammerhead they had deployed as Jacob flew it low and out of sight.

And then there was the sound of fighting.

There were no screams or orders being shouted, not from that distance, but she _could_ hear the sound of gunfire, _intense_ gunfire, that and the odd mufled explosion.

They had already seen it from above. Though scanning the planet had been impossible because of the radiation, visual scans using cameras _had_ worked...and revealed the bad news.

The Quarian ship was further to the east, guarded by a few Geth sentries, which meant there were no living Quarians there. In fact, the Normandy's cameras had spotted no living Quarians anywhere, but since there was a small horde of Geth massing to the north of their position...there were obviously survivors.

Miranda had argued about the danger of trying to help such few people against so many Geth. After all, Tali might already be dead...but had, as expected, been glared to silence by Michael, and more surprisingly, _Garrus_.

It was curious, both the Commander _and_ the Turian had been on edge ever since they'd entered the system...Miranda guessed it had something to do with her being their old team mate...but had shrugged it aside, it was just another issue she had to deal with.

Then again, dying due to those two being _overzealous_ was a _big_ issue...

Her gaze moved back to Michael...and found him glaring at the rest of the team. He looked...tense, and eager, unable to stand still as he walked back and forth before them. His voice was hard and tense, reminding her of a drill sergeant. "Listen up! The radiation makes communications off planet impossible! That means that the Geth here do _not_ know that the Normandy has _destroyed_ the cruiser that dropped them off!"

Jack shifted where she stood, the woman shaking her head. "Fuck, you've already told us this _twice_ al-"

Michael's eyes flashed, and the woman's mouth clicked shut. _Heh_...Miranda smiled even as Michael continued. "But that does _not_ mean that communications _on_ the planet are cut! And as you should know by now, Geth are _linked_! That means that once we hit them _all_ Geth _will_ know we're here!" He paused, letting the words sink in, yet didn't stop his walking. "So what do we do?"

By now everyone knew, the man had drummed it into them again and again on the Normandy...yet none said anything, rightly judging it better not to interrupt him.

"We hit them _hard_! We hit them _fast_! We cause as _many_ casualties as we can as _fast_ as we can! We leave them _nothing_ to fight us with!" The man's face twitched as he came to a sudden stop, voice dropping low. "I expect the _best_ out of you, if I _don't_ see that you _will_ answer to me."

Miranda glanced at the others...and though none swallowed or looked overly frightened by the words...they _did_ look a bit nervous about the threat...and rightly so considering the intent look on Michael's face. _At least he's motivated to get the work done_... She rolled her eyes.

Michael's glaring was interrupted by a beep, making all of them reach up to their ears or helmets to listen in. "Shepard, Garrus here, Jacob has deployed me at the base of the tower..." Miranda's gaze was drawn to the tall building towering over the others in the area, a good vantage point Michael had picked out as an observation point. "...I am moving up the stairs now, I'll be fully deployed in four minutes." Garrus' voice held the same tension Michael's did, if less angry.

Michael's eye twitched. "You have two."

"Two it is." Garrus replied, a small grunt in the radio as he increased the pace up the stairs.

"Jacob here." The radio continued. "Moving to deploy Kasumi in forward position, but I can already tell we have lots of Geth activity ahead of you, though my sensors are jammed."

"Roger that." Michael nodded, tensing. "Drop her off and then proceed to lower ground, we'll call when you're needed." His finger dropped off the side of his helmet as he focused back on the others. "You heard the man, the Geth are waiting, so we _move_!"

Without further word the man turned and began to jog, heedless of the way his armour began to smoke the moment he stepped into the light.

The others turned to Miranda, confused looks on their faces.

_I__ don't know_...

She shrugged...and moved to catch up.

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_Dammit_!

Michael leapt, rolled with the impact and felt the pressure wave of the exploding rocket as it struck the wall he had stood by just moments ago.

_God fucking dammit_!

Moving up to hug the cover two discarded old boxes offered he fired a round at a Geth, the burst of shots from his avenger rifle tearing through what little remained of its shield and ripping part of its head off.

The flailing machine was quickly bashed aside by two others however, the two taking over its cover and continuing the crossfire that was pinning down the team.

_Move__ you sons of bitches_! _I don't have time for this_!

A low growl of irritation emanated from Michael's chest as he ducked in time to avoid a scything salvo from a Geth Prime as the machine slowly moved in on their position.

Around him, the others were mostly ducking behind their cover, now and then throwing the odd salvo the enemy's way. Only Grunt and Michael were stubborn enough to pull up to fire more then passing shots at the enemy...and that was no surprise given how many shots the two Primes ahead were pouring towards them. Together with the three dozen _other_ Geth...the team was being engulfed in a _storm_ of shots.

"We need to retreat!" Miranda shouted from somewhere behind Michael, the woman not even daring to stick her head over her cover as the heavy calibre shots from one of the Primes tore great chunks out of the low wall. "If we move back to the street instead of this crossroad we'll be able to...!"

"No!" Michael snapped, knowing fully well he was being stubborn. _It's the best action, but_... He bit his lower lip in frustration. Even over the sound of all the Geth firing at him he could hear the battle with the Quarians ahead, louder now...and clearly diminishing in intensity as the Geth tightened the noose._ I can't_...

"Shepard, you have an incommoding drop ship!" Jacob called in through the radio...and Michael felt his hatred swell. _We do __not__ retreat_!

"Break cover and engage! Take it out!" He shouted back, then turned his head. "Grunt! Get over here!" The Krogan growled...but moved, quickly rushing over to Michael's cover and just reaching it before his shield shorted out. "I'm going to need your help with this!"

Looking over the cover, Michael was just in time to see the Geth drop ship appear round one of the towers ahead, the surprisingly large ship banking hard as it moved to drop whatever reinforcement it held...

A moment later Jacob's Hammerhead came flying, the small hovercraft flying straight at the flank of the ship like a missile...even as it released its payload of _actual_ missiles.

There was barely enough time for them to make white contrails through the air before the barrage struck the drop ship's side. The blossoming explosions rippled along the length of it...and the ship twisted as the force of the attack forced it sideways...and into one of the buildings it was flying past.

There was a crash, the tower listing as it was torn open...and then coming crashing down upon the struggling drop ship even as the Hammerhead flew away in an elegant arch beneath the crashing ship. _Note, Jacob's good with that thing_.

A crash...and the top of the tower fell, dragging the drop ship with it onto the street ahead in a cloud of falling debris and dust.

Michael turned back to the grinning Grunt, knowing time was in short supply and that there was no time to be awed by the destruction. "I need you to charge to the left towards those two Geth behind the cover there. I will be right behind you, when the time comes you dodge behind their cover, got it?"

"Protect the squishy one, got it." The Krogan grunted, giving Michael an amused look. "Damn, this _is_ a fight, Shepard!"

Michael grimaced, looking over the cover as he judged the moment, his voice a growl."Not for long, soon it'll be a slaughter..." _There_! The Prime to the left was stepping forward, moving to eject its spent heat sink. "Now! Move!"

With a roar, Grunt flew forward, his feet kicking aside their mutual cover as if the boxes weighed nothing as he with a barking assault rifle threw himself towards the Geth ahead.

Michael was only a few feet behind him...and watched with narrowed eyes as every Geth currently not reloading turned their guns upon the pair.

_Bring it on you synthetic beasts_...

As if hearing his thoughts the storm focused on the pair, turning the air around them into nothing but white strobes of light as the shots tore through the air, the ground and shields alike. The rightmost Prime with its large machine gun also brought its gun to bear...and Grunt growled in pain and anger as a stream of heavy shots slammed into him, instantly sending his right shoulder pad flying in a shower of sparks and orange blood.

Ahead, the two Geth had fallen, making the cover Grunt's..._if_ he could reach it. Even as they ran the nearer Prime had reloaded, it too bringing its heavy weapon to bear upon Grunt...a Grunt that was already stumbling with an angry growl as his lifeblood was splashed over the ground.

"Down!" Michael grabbed Grunt's shoulder, fingers digging into a sizeable crater in the flesh...and shoved the Krogan behind the low wall strewn with Geth parts as he himself leapt towards the nearest Prime.

The machine took half a step back, the eye atop it widening as it took in the new target and brought its weapon to bear...and Michael roared as he crossed the distance.

He came up close...and slammed the butt of his rifle into the left knee of the Prime, forcing it to bend...and then the right, repeating the process and nearly bringing the Prime to its knees as it struggled to remain standing. It looked down at him, the lone eye narrowing as it raised the large machine gun in its hand to strike him...and Michael glared back at it as he dropped his rifle."Nice gun."

He leapt...and his foot pushed hard against the left thigh of the Prime as he used it to come level with it. A startled sound of static escaped it...and Michael twisted mid-jump, hands coming to grip the machine gun as his feet slammed into the Geth's chest.

"Let me try it." With a grunt Michael pushed...and the Prime gave in, its hands not designed to grip the weapon tighter than necessary to fire the weapon.

Michael flew, twisted...and his back struck the floor as he rolled with the impact, hands moving to grip the weapon properly as he on one knee brought the Prime into his cross-hair. It was moving towards him, arms reaching out to grab at him...and he fired.

A stream of shots flew forward, thumping into the chest of the Prime and tearing fist-sized chunks of out it, slamming them into the inside of the machine...and making it falter as it dropped onto all fours...and then slumped to the ground.

_Recoil is heavy_...

Michael noted the fact even as shots tore through the ground and air around him, the Geth responding to the new threat in force...and he responded in kind.

Aiming at the closest Geth trooper, now unable to take cover, Michael squeezed down on the trigger and let the stream of heavy shots tear forth...

The Geth's leg came off almost instantly, its shrill cry interrupted as another bullet caught it in the head and ripped it into scraps. The recoil steadily lifted the stream of shots, letting them fly along the Geth lines...and several more of the machines cried out as they were felled; torn into shreds by the powerful weapon.

_I like it_.

Michael almost grinned...only for him to fly into the wall behind him as the other Prime caught him straight in the chest with a burst of shots.

A thump...and he slumped down on the ground, gasping for air as he felt rather then heard his chest plate crack from the impacts. _More_ impacts came though, the shots slamming into Michael's torso as he twisted and gasped.

_No_!

He brought his gun to bear, pushing it steady against the wall behind him...and let loose.

The shots merely bounced against the Prime's shield as it steadily advanced, its own shots steadily slamming into Michael, driving all air out of him as blood suddenly splattered his visor along with a burning pain across his chest.

_I_..._no_..._I_ _have_ _to_ _save_...

Then the Prime jerked, its shields flashing white as they suddenly overloaded. A moment later an orb of orange flew forth...and the machine caught fire. Ignoring the damage it turned its head towards the rest of the team, a team slamming shots into it, adding to the damage of its already broken armour.

A distant crack...and the eye of the Prime exploded into shards of glass, toppling it even as Garrus called out through the radio. "Scratch one!"

Michael smiled...and rolled into cover even as the remaining Geth began to fall; their flank gutted and their heavy support gone, they no longer had the edge...

Moving to reload the heavy weapon in his hands Michael watched Grunt plod past him, the Krogan ignoring the great wounds in him as with a roar he came charging forth, slamming something out of Michael's sight into pieces. Miranda's voice was a bit distant, despite her yelling, but Michael shook his head and cleared it from the shock. "They're retreating, cut them down!"

_Hurts_...

Michael grunted, reached down and withdrew a syringe to jab into the mess that was his chest, instantly feeling better as the medi-gel did its work.

"All targets down!" Miranda's voice was clear now, and not a little tense. "Commander, where are you!"

"Here." Michael replied, hand coming up and grabbing a hold of a nearby wall as he hoisted himself to his feet. Watching as the rest of the team appeared out of their cover he raised the machine gun in his hand and rested it on his shoulder, ignoring the crimson mess that was covering what was left of his chest plate. "Well done, we move on."

"Sir, you're hurt." Miranda noted, frowning at him, as if it was his fault. _Well_..._it_ _is_..._but_ _that's_ _not_ _important_.

"Medi-gel's already administered, we move on." He replied, gesturing towards the street ahead, thankful it _wasn't_ the one blocked by a downed Geth ship. "If we keep the pace we will reach them in time."

"Sir." Miranda replied, looking cross as she moved closer. "I really think you ought to slow down, this is risking the operation and you're being unnecessarily..."

_No_!

Suddenly he was close to her, looking down at her, glaring...and for a moment something akin to _fright_ passed her features before that cold veneer was clamped back into place.

Michael barely recognised his own voice. "We move on..._now_."

"As you wish, Commander..." Miranda simply replied, looking puzzled...and not at all pleased.

_Whatever_. Snorting, Michael whirled about and returned to the jogging pace he had kept up ever since they'd landed. The pain in his chest, the internal anguish of what might lay ahead as well as that of his injury, simply spurring him on to increase the length of his strides.

Again he heard Jacob's voice in the radio, the man's voice filled with static. "Commander, I have established radio-contact with the leader of the Quarian marines, patching you in."

Michael didn't slow down, the heavy rifle in his hands tracking back and forth as he kept jogging...and his voice a growl. "Talk to me."

The voice was surprisingly calm and to the point. "Commander Shepard? This is Kal'Reegar, migrant fleet marines, we're losing men fast and if you don't show up soon there'll be nothing but corpses waiting for you."

"We'll be there in moments." Michael growled, eyes narrowing as he pushed forward, ignoring the strain in his chest.

_I'm coming_...

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_Thanks to Abydos Jackson for always sparing the time._


	30. Chapter 30

"Incoming!"

The team scattered, leaping left and right as the orb of energy almost as large as Grunt ploughed through the space where they had stood, the air sparkling in its wake as it detonated against a distant wall with a loud hiss.

Over the radio, Garrus' voice was dry. "Colossus, right in front of you."

"No, _really_!" Michael snarled back as Miranda picked herself up from the dirt, watching the man jump to his feet, hands curling tight around his large machine gun, as if he intended to rip the Colossus apart with _them_ rather then the weapon. For all Miranda knew...he would.

Next to him, Kasumi, just back from having led part of the Geth forces away, dusted herself off as she got up, helping the dazed-looking Mordin along with her.

Grunt and Zaeed looked no worse for wear, the Krogan even _amused_, and Jack...well she _looked_ unharmed, though judging by the string of expletives pouring out of her she might as well have lost a leg. _Not that we'd be so lucky_...

"Hurry! Into cover!"

Looking up, Miranda instantly spotted the Quarian in his red suit, a Quarian decidedly _not_ dead as he waved for them to move towards where he crouched behind a low steel wall atop a small platform overlooking the area ahead.

A few dead Quarians littered the path between the group and the survivor...and Miranda realised that if they didn't' get into that cover they'd be joining the fallen shortly.

She ran, the others following in a rush as shots flashed against shields or bounced off armour.

And then the enemy fire slackened, becoming nothing but thumps against the wall as the panting group crouched down behind the battered cover.

The Quarian looked over the group, and they looked back.

Considering the rest of his team lay dead on the ground behind them the man looked surprisingly calm...as far as Miranda could tell with that suit covering him, a suit that here and there was covered in blotches of dark blood, blood that _also_ went ignored. The missile launcher in the Quarian's hands was stained with his blood, the barrel smoking.

The silver eyes moved from person to person, the alien gaze seemingly boring through them, it lingered a moment on Miranda...only to focus on Shepard, as if somehow being able to tell who was in command. "Kal'Reegar, migrant fleet marines, you were the one I spoke to through the radio, weren't you?"

"That's me, Commander Shepard." Michael replied, eyes grim as he looked over the injured Quarian. "You're okay?"

"Shepard..." The Quarian slowed for a moment, apparently knowing who the man was, which was surprising given the Quarians relative isolation from the galactic community...then he shrugged. "Just a few flesh wounds, my veins are filled as much with antibiotics as they are with blood and I might have a broken rib...so nothing serious." There was a grin in the reply, the Quarian shaking his head. "Made those synthetic bastards pay for it though."

"That's the spirit." Zaeed grunted, the mercenary grinning like a wolf.

Michael's eyes were intent though, focused on the Quarian. "Where's Tali? I didn't see her before...is she...?" The words started hard and angry, only to turn uncertain and afraid as they petered out while Michael averted his gaze.

Only for him to look right back to the Quarian as the man jabbed a finger over the wall. "She's stuck in the observatory on the other side, the Geth are trying to get to her but...well..." He hoisted his weapon up and twisted where he sat, firing a missile over the yard before ducking back down. "We tried to get her out but took a lot of casualties on the way, best I've been able to do is distract them."

Next to her, Michael visibly relaxed, head dropping as his shoulders slumped, looking as if a great weight had suddenly dropped off him. "The observatory is secure then? They can't get to her?"

"Not for a while no, they have to hack the door." The marine replied, shrugging. "Though getting to her won't be easy; the Geth have an entire platoon over there, and that's not counting the damn Colossus they keep behind a wall. I can barely get a clear shot, never mind enough of them to overpower its shields _and_ damage it."

"So we flank it." Michael growled, daring a glance over the wall and ignoring the flashing of his shields as a few rounds from the enemy found their mark. "Get closer and take it by surprise."

"Exactly." The Quarian nodded. "Me and my team would have done that if not...well...you saw for yourself." For a moment he sounded pensive...then he visibly shrugged it off, focusing on the present. "The Geth Colossus is bad enough, but with infantry support and only three ways there, well...it's not a pretty scenario."

"It never is." Michael replied, ducking back down. "The middle path is suicide."

"Yeah, an open bridge right in the open, it's suicide all right, but at least it works both ways." The Quarian noted, a hint of blood-lust in his tone. "Which leaves the left and the right. The left gives you cover from the Colossus but if you want to cross the area you have to move fast or the sun or Geth will get you. The right's got some cover but that Colossus' got a straight shot at you and the Geth have reinforced it with snipers."

"The right it is then." Michael replied without even taking a moment to think about it, something Miranda had never learnt to do. She _knew_ it was a trick, or she _believed_ so...yet she had never mastered it. "Do you-"

"Not to interrupt." Garrus called through the radio, sounding worried. "But those Geth Kasumi drew off are double timing it back towards your rear." A pause. "They are, however, moving in the _open_..."

"Okay." Michael nodded, pausing briefly as his eyes looked down at the ground, perhaps drawing a mental map of the battlefield, Miranda wasn't sure, all she knew was that it seemed a bit of a tough going for _one_ person. _She better be worth it_... "Garrus, send their coordinates to Jacob, he'll destroy or pin them down with the Hammerhead."

"On it, Commander." Came Jacob's voice a second later. "Coordinates received, moving to engage."

"What of me?" The Quarian grunted as he shifted his stance, drawing fresh blood from a hole in his chest plate. "I won't sit on my ass while you do my job."

"You've done enough." Michael replied, eyeing the blood on the Quarian's armour. "Keep in cover and we'll get you out of here."

"The hell with that!" It was the first time the Quarian had raised his voice, the silver eyes under his visor narrowing, a sudden heat in his voice. "I'm not sitting around while you go risk your neck! I'm _sworn_ to protect Tali'Zorah with my _life_ and that's what I'm going to _do_!"

Michael froze, the man's face unreadable as he stared at the Quarian...who glared back, his head cocked to the side.

When he spoke next, his voice was almost..._soft_. "You've done enough, Reegar..."

The Quarian shook his head, propping up his missile launcher against his shoulder. "I know my duty, Shepard, I'm _going_ to help."

A bit confused as to Michael's reluctance for the help, Miranda watched with keen interest as the man leant closer to the Quarian, holding the marine's gaze. His voice remained soft as he spoke. "You've lost your entire team protecting her, Reegar, and if I know Tali that will be _extremely_ painful for her...if you at least live, it'll be _something_."

"You _do_ know her." The Quarian agreed with a stoic nod. "But I'd rather she felt guilt then be _dead_...so if you think you can order me to stand down I will respectfully tell you to shove it, Commander."

Silence.

Then a grin on Michael's face, a small chuckle escaping him, echoed by the Quarian as they looked at one another. "Well, that makes things easier." His grin faded as he risked another glance over the wall. "Can you keep the Colossus distracted without getting yourself killed?"

"What do you think I was doing before you got here?"

"I'll take that as a yes." Michael turned to the others, the smile now replaced by a grim look, hand moving up to his helmet. "Garrus, do you have a clear shot to the central bridge?"

"Yeah, that and some." The Turian replied, voice a growl.

"_Nothing_ will cross it, you hear me?"

"Loud and clear."

Turning back to the others, Michael's gaze moved over them, assessing and deciding. "Mordin, stay with Reegar, keep stims at the ready for him, keep him alive." The order made Reegar grumble in irritation, but it went ignored as the Commander continued. "You'll also assist Garrus in watching the bridge. Jack, Grunt, Zaeed, I want you three moving left, do _not_ cross the open area, _hold the line _and let _them_ die trying to cross." For some reason that drew a chuckle from Mordin, the Salarian finding something amusing with Shepard's words.

Miranda drew a deep breath, realising what that meant as Michael looked over at her. "Miranda, Kasumi, you two are with me, we'll move to the right path, then flank the Colossus and put it down."

"What about those snipers?" Miranda asked, and found herself hesitating as Michael's gaze focused on her.

"Kasumi's cloak and my own rifle will deal with that, we'll get a footing and then roll up their line." Michael looked over them all. "Everyone know the plan?" There were nods and words of ascent all around. "Then we move. On three, one...two..._three_!"

The group exploded into action, Michael and Miranda side by side as they vaulted the wall, Michael's sniper rifle going off the moment he hit the ground, tearing the head off a Geth atop the walkway to their right, their goal...

Miranda stared, feeling horribly exposed by the many Geth heads looking down at them from the path above, ready to catch the group in a crossfire.

Another fell, its eye smashed when Michael's second shot impacted with it...and Miranda started running up the stairs leading to the path, keeping as low as she could.

She was dimly aware of the rest of the team running towards the left while a rocket arched across the field towards the distant Colossus, a Colossus barely visible as it hid behind a thick wall on the other side of the area. Now in the open, she could see the chasm between the two sides of the area, a chasm only crossable by the three paths...the central upon which a Geth trooper swayed and fell, its head coming apart from a shot from nearly across the _city_.

A powerful round struck her shield, making Miranda growl as she moved to dodge two more as the Geth snipers before her took their shots. One about to fire lost an arm to Michael's rifle before she heard him moving to follow her...and then Kasumi appeared up ahead.

It was as if she had leapt out of thin air...and the closest Geth didn't even see her as she quickly smashed the spike jutting from her gauntlet into its neck and then out. It simply fell, coming to lay over the wall it had covered behind as white fluid spurted from damaged cords. Kasumi's submachine gun was already up, pouring shots into the rest of the snipers along the cover, sending one more to the floor as the others pivoted on the spot...only to find nothing but a grenade rolling towards them as the thief ducked back behind cover.

The blast sent one flying over the edge with an electronic shriek while several others tumbled backwards, dazed by the concussion grenade.

Then Miranda caught up, pistol moving from target to target, swiftly ending three of the machines before they could pick themselves up or move into cover. Now able to look down the path, she also saw a larger Geth moving towards them, a Geth Hunter about to disappear with its tactical cloak...

_Oh no you don't_!

Miranda reached out, glowing omni-tool obeying...and the Geth halted mid-stride, its cloak shorting out along with its shield as they were overloaded. A second later, Miranda and Kasumi opened up as one, a burst of submachine fire stitching across the machine's chest and a powerful pistol round tearing part of its neck off as it fell.

Two more Geth snipers appeared, rising from the blast of the grenade...only to swiftly fall back down as Michael brushed past the two women, uncaring of his shield flashing as he stepped right into the sunlight while unloading his machine gun into them.

But further ahead more Geth came forth...and Michael ducked back behind a crate with a growl of annoyance as their pulse rifles poured shots towards the small team as the Geth moved to deploy.

With her forced into cover as well, Miranda took the opportunity to look down at the rest of the battlefield.

The Geth were making no headway down the central bridge. Over by their 'base' Mordin was coming up in quick intervals along the low wall, shot after shot being thrown towards the bridge, barely caring for aiming, content to show the Geth the danger of _trying_ it. As to those who _did_...a distant boom and one Geth trooper fell over the edge, head smashed in two by a powerful round fired from a distant sniper.

Another missile arched over the field, thumping into the Colossus' shield as it fired back, making the injured Quarian duck back into cover, cover visibly bending under the impact.

.Further off, the rest of the team was indeed holding the line. Grunt and Zaeed barely seemed to need their cover as they held a firing line, assault rifles shooting round after round down their path, making the Geth scrambling to get to them fall or duck away. Jack on the other hand was visibly _laughing_ as she glowed with biotic energy, sending bolt after bolt of power flying in wide arcs; the bolts slamming into individual Geth and sending them flying into the chasm below.

_As long as it works_...

Moving out of cover Miranda moved forward, ducking below another crate even as Michael fired three rounds to cover her, three rounds _felling_ two of the Geth ahead...

The Geth too were moving to advance, the Colossus moving its head to turn its cannon upon the team, ready to cover the infantry.

Then another missile struck the Colossus, making its head jerk to the side...Michael ran forward, leaping right over Miranda as he yelled out a challenge.

_What in_...

Miranda, surprised by herself, moved to follow, drawn forth by the charge as she watched the man rush right into the nearest Geth. His swinging forearm striking it in the shoulder and bowling it over the edge of the path, his return swing slammed into the eye of another Geth, shattering it and felling the machine even as his now lowered machine gun poured a burst of shots into a third Geth, severing it in two by the waist.

Miranda's omni-tool shot out, scrambling the insides of a trooper ahead with her overload, she still crashed into it though, using it as a shield as she rushed into another, bowling the two machines over, her on top. Jamming her pistol into the still struggling Geth's chest she fired two rounds...and then got up while tossing her hair back.

Looking up, she found the two last Geth in their way fall, Kasumi landing with a thud, her boots and spike stained white by the Geth fluid.

Further ahead, Michael was already moving on, steps long and decisive as he replaced his machine gun with the grenade launcher he almost never used. His voice was cold...and Miranda found herself instantly moving to obey. "With me, both of you to use submachine guns, expend a heat sink and then move into cover."

With them appearing on the flank of the Colossus it was now clear in sight, the machine standing straight in order to aim over the wall it was covering behind, cover now _useless_...

Michael jumped over the wall, making Miranda blink...then roll her eyes._ Of course, he has to finish it up close_..._why wouldn't he_? _Damn_ _men_...

Looking over the wall, she saw the man moving in a low crouch in the shadow of the building the Colossus was guarding, the man swiftly moving behind a low pile of rubble before waving at them to engage.

"Right..." Miranda waved her hand forward, the omni-tool draining part of the Colossus' shield. It moved to turn...only for a missile to strike its shield, making its head turn back towards the distant Reegar, almost irritated.

Then submachine gun fire was raking its side, Kasumi and Miranda both pouring shots into it, making it flicker, struggling with the strain.

A crash...and it stepped around to face them, the large eye atop its long neck glowing bright with charging power...

Its shield failed...and Miranda ducked into cover.

A moment later the wall the two women covered behind shook, dust and debris raining over them as the powerful blast slammed into it, nearly knocking them off their feet.

Yet they still heard the _other_ explosion..._and_ the electronic cry of alarm.

Looking up, Miranda found the Colossus take a step back, its chest scorched as it turned to look at Michael as he appeared from the rubble. A second grenade struck it in the left foreleg though, making it bend forward with what almost sounded like a growl...only to be interrupted as a third grenade slammed the lower part of its head, forcing it upwards, as if struck by a giant.

The Colossus wobbled on its legs...but turned its eye back upon the man with a growing glow in its eye...

Only for a missile to arc from the other end of the field, slamming into the back of its head with a blast of shattering armour and fire, forcing it back down towards Michael...who fired yet another two grenades in quick succession.

The first struck the Colossus square in the eye, forcing its head to the right...and making the second strike it right next to where the missile had hit.

A loud thump...a crack...and the top of the Colossus neck shattered, sending the cracked head falling to the ground before Michael's feet even as its body collapsed in a broken heap of cracked armour and dust.

Silence.

Then a sigh escaped the man as he let the grenade launcher drop to the ground, ignoring it as he looked over at the door to the building Colossus had guarded.

The silence lingering.

"Now..." So far away, and with his voice so low, it was hard to hear him...but Miranda _did_, and was surprised to note that this was the first time during the mission that Michael sounded..._hesitant_. He drew a deep breath. "...to get this done..."

Sharing a confused look with Kasumi...Miranda moved to follow the man's slow steps.

8

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8

_Thanks to Abydos Jackson for her wonderful efforts._


	31. Chapter 31

She heard it.

The hiss of a door opening.

Three pairs of feet walking towards her, two light, one heavy.

She recognised the heavy pair.

_Even his walk is the same as before_...

It was a tired thought, barely registering to her dulled mind as she stood by the ancient console, fingers flowing from control to control, making sure she had downloaded everything the admiralty board wanted.

Her fingers stopped, hands dropping to her sides, finished.

She didn't turn, instead listening to her heart as it moved in a slow and weary beat, painful in her chest.

It had been like that for a long time now. The events of Freedom's Progress has in a way jolted her out of that greyness that had permeated her life, replacing it with pain...and then..._anger_... Anger with _him_, anger with Cerberus...yet mostly anger with _herself_...

She had tried to hold onto that, to that blissful, releasing anger...she had really _tried_...

Yet work came back, reality came back, and the pain endured, chipping away at the anger...tearing it down until there was nothing left. Perhaps it had been for the best...the emptiness opening up under her had drawn away the pain as well, taken that and leaving...nothing of importance.

A grey husk, a machine as much as her enemies...or so she had _wished_.

Because there was always that knowledge in the back of her head, of the creature impersonating him...of the doubt, of the what if...

She loathed herself for that, for the weakness, for that flicker of hope for a brighter future, one that surely would be crushed.

Since then she had been on three missions in Geth territory, each one more dangerous than the last...dim mind silently hoping that each one would hold that one clever sniper, or that one stray missile...

It had never come.

Instead others had fallen, good men and women, their bright futures snuffed short instead of hers; _for_ her...

Each time the jolt of pain within had reminded her that something within her indeed still clung to life...and each time she had hated herself all the more for it. And it had only gotten worse and worse. To the point where jolts had turned into a long ache, an ache joining the dullness of her mind and limbs; becoming a _part_ of the machine, a machine about to crumble with wear.

And now _he_ was behind her...and she felt nothing but that dull ache and the greyness that had enveloped her mind. _Am I supposed to be relieved_? _Happy_? _Angry_?

Tali...couldn't quite remember how to become any of that.

"Tali..." His voice was...as it had always been, as if nothing had happened.

With the time that had passed...it was impossible to think of him as a creature, a _thing_...but she couldn't think of him as _him_ either...she just..._couldn't_.

And now he was here, Tali had been warned by Kal'Reegar over the radio...not that it was needed. Being rescued against all odds in the middle of Geth territory...who else _could_ it be? In the end...it wasn't important.

She turned.

There were two human women with him...irrelevant and fading out of focus as her gaze fell upon him.

His black armour was as she remembered it, pitted and scared from the fighting on the planet. There was a great gap in the chest; blotches of dark blood splattered around the crater. _Of course he'd get injured, probably doing something reckless yet effective, and fight on in order to reach me_... Again, she briefly wondered if she should feel something with that thought, happiness or anger, sadness or guilt...but it was just an observation now, a _fact_, grey and arid.

His face lacked the scar she remembered, the only discernible difference in his entire _being_...and only drawing into light that he had been _remade_...that he _was_...yet _wasn't_, the man he was supposed to be.

Her time back in the Flotilla had made her rusty in reading people's faces...and the odd look on his face told her nothing.

His body told her plenty though.

That he wanted to rush forth, reach out.

That he wanted to turn back, to run.

That he wanted to speak, to say all that had gone unsaid.

That he wanted to listen, to find hope in her words.

That he _wanted_, that he _feared_.

And Tali didn't know what to do.

Michael hesitated, looking pained as the moment lengthened...

And Tali forced herself to speak. "Mi...Com...Shepard." The pained stance didn't disappear by the greeting, it only got worse as the man flinched, as if struck...and Tali closed her eyes, nodding to herself. _Not_ _an_ _it_..._but_..._can't__ call him Michael_..._and he's not my Commander_._ Shepard_..._Cerberus_ _created_ _Shepard_, _not_ _Michael_..._yes_..._it_ _works_...

"You are..." He hesitated, one hand halfway to reaching out, worry etched in his stance. "...okay?"

"I'm..." Tali sighed, mind too clouded with grey dullness to come up with a lie, yet she was too tired for honesty. "...uninjured."

Michael's hand dropped, his body guarded as he observed her, _worried_.

Despite the emptiness within her Tali nearly grimaced, she didn't _want_ his concern.

"That's...good." Michael didn't sound too relieved, the worry lingering in his words, in the _air_...

Tali looked away.

Silence.

More silence.

Stretching, lengthening...

Painful and harsh, the worry in the air squeezing around her chest, crushing her...

Only for the silence to be _shattered_ as one of the women spoke, the voice familiar, setting Tali's nerves on edge. "Not to interrupt this _riveting_ discussion...but could we get going before the Geth send reinforcement to the planet?" Tali managed to tear her gaze from Michael, recognising the source of the voice. _Oh_..._you_. The woman sighed, looking exasperated as she tossed her hair back and turned to look at Michael, even _Tali_ could see the woman's scowl meant annoyance. "And are you going to ask her to come with us or not?"

For the briefest of moments Tali felt panic grip her.

_They came to take me with them_..._I_ _should_ _have_ _known_...

The panic disappeared just as soon as it had come, dulled away like everything else she felt.

Ahead, Michael looked angry, hands momentarily flexing into fists as he looked at the woman...then relaxed as he turned back to Tali, the man looking...pensive. "You..." He swallowed, _afraid_. "...don't have to come with us, you have..." The words petered out, the man unable to continue.

"I know." She bit her lip, holding back the pained laugh suddenly about to burst forth. She knew him too well... "I can choose, right?"

He didn't answer, looking at her, stance stiff and worried, wanting to convince her, yet _fearing_ it, _wanting_ it, yet _not_...it would have been a confusing projection...if Tali hadn't understood it all too well.

She looked away, biting her lower lip.

_I_ _shouldn't_, _they_..._he's_ _Cerberus_..._and_ _I_ _have_ _more_ _missions_, _more_ _deployments_...

_More_ _deployments_...

_More deaths, more dying for me, because of me_...

The idea of it...hurt.

_They would be better off not being led by me_..._it_..._the_ _Flotilla_ _would_ _benefit_...

There was relief in that thought, that she still could do good, even if it involved leaving...

Leaving the endless work, the distant admirers, the...loneliness.

_For_... She glanced up at him...and back down at the floor, squeezing her eyes shut, hating herself.

_No_..._not_ _for_... She drew a shuddering breath. _The Reapers, they need to be fought, and since no one else is doing it_..._I would be helping my people, no longer getting them killed_...

The argument was sound...yet it felt like an excuse.

_I_...

She hesitated, feeling as if she stood before a precipice...yet there was no ground behind her either, just a dark abyss waiting on either side, waiting to swallow her..._break_ her.

Yet...what choice did she have?

Step back...and fall, dragging all she'd struggled for along with her by failing again and again to protect it...

Or forward, a leap of faith that would never succeed, that would drag her into yet another dark place, to be ripped apart by whatever awaited...

_At least forward will spare my people for a while_...

The thought offered little comfort as she looked up, finding Michael looking at her, all a quiver with tension, fearing and wanting, needing and worrying...

She wanted none of it.

She couldn't help any of it.

She couldn't endure it.

Yet...her mouth moved, whispering the words she hadn't thought she'd ever utter. "I will follow."

The man blinked, taking half a step backwards as his body tensed in surprise.

Silence.

Then he looked away, swallowing while he nodded. "Thank you...it's...all I can ask."

And Tali looked away as well.

_Yes, it is_...

8

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8

Fear.

It was a strange feeling for Michael, not something he'd felt in ages.

He'd watched the skies of Elysium darken with invading ships, he'd battled through Eden Prime, he'd fought Saren next to a ticking nuclear weapon, struggled against Rachni, Geth and all manner of monsters...he'd stared into the eyes of a mechanical _God_...and fear had often not been an issue.

Yet now, on his own ship, facing a _door_, he felt it, squeezing his heart tight, rooting him to the grilled floor...paralysing him.

Because behind that door...he wasn't sure what he'd face, what he'd have to...handle.

Tali was so...different.

_Where has the bright and adorably awkward woman gone_? _Where has that energy, that passion, gone_? _What_..._did I meet down on Haestrom_?

He didn't want the answers to those questions, yet he _did_...and the conflict tore at him, holding him fast.

The woman hadn't said a word during their transport back, she had introduced herself to the crew, gotten the clearance...been assigned space and taken up duties in engineering despite not having to...at least that part had been _classic_ Tali.

Yet...it was as if she wasn't quite there, she just...drifted by, even EDI's introduction hadn't drawn much of a reaction, the Quarian just...resigned to it all.

It was not the Tali he knew.

And he was afraid that it all was his fault, that he had somehow ruined her. _I'm not worth that_...

But that fear also pushed him forward. He remembered it in perfect clarity, every _word_ back in his cabin on the old Normandy, when he'd been _shattered_, broken...and she'd put him together, shown him the way forward, _saved_ him...

_I_..._doubt_ _I_ _can_ _do_ _that_..._but_ _I_ _must_ _try_..._she_ _deserves_ _it_...

A deep breath...and Michael moved forward, the door sliding open as he came close, letting him into engineering.

Only to instantly come to a stop.

On the far side were Engineers Donnelly and Daniels, the two offering quick salutes, only to return to their posts as he waved them off; his gaze _fixed_ on the Quarian whose back was facing him.

She must have heard the door open, must know someone was behind her, probably that it was him as well...yet she didn't turn from her work, hands moving fluidly over the console in a way Michael doubted any human could manage.

He swallowed, the speech he'd memorized suddenly forgotten. Instead he just stood there, gaze lingering on the hood covering the back of her helmet, the intricate pattern on it just as he remembered...

He remembered his stare linger on it back when they had celebrated her Pilgrimage back on the old Normandy, how he had teased her about fearing the cake before her...

_That might work_.

Again, he swallowed, before forcing himself to speak, the casual tone he assumed sounding strained and hollow in his ears as he forced on a smile. "So..." The woman tensed, fingers halting over the console. "...how's my Quarian princess doing...?"

Silence, Tali tense like a spring.

Then the Quarian offered a short glance backwards and the briefest of nods, her tone _cold_, telling him to _leave_. "Shepard."

_I_..._can't_.

Again he found himself rooted to the floor, and this time he wasn't alone, he couldn't just stand there, _couldn't_ just stare...

"So...how's the new Normandy? You like it?" He grimaced, the small talk seeming...insignificant. "The crew hasn't caused any trouble have they? If they have I'll make sure they'll regret it, I assure you...I will..." _Stop_ _talking_.

His mouth snapped shut.

And there was no response from Tali, the woman's fingers again moving to and fro on her console, ignoring him.

It hurt.

Yet Michael's mouth once again found itself moving, no longer obeying his brain. "So...how's your father?" He winced at the idiotic choice of words...though there was still no reaction from the Quarian. "I mean, the Flotilla and all...I've been gone for two years so I haven't been able to respond to any calls for help about the Flotilla and any human space as I promised...heh..." _Or just keep talking_..._digging your own grave is always fun_...

Still no response.

And apparently his mouth was all too willing to oblige his brain's sarcasm. "I forwarded all we knew about the Collectors and the Reapers, didn't I? Have you had time to read it?"

No answer.

"As you can see, it's not much to go on, but we _can_ do it...you know me, eh?" He managed a quivering smile, the one he _knew_ got under her skin. But it was no use, she had her back to him, and even if she hadn't...he doubted she would have reacted. "It's nice to have you back, with Garrus here too...it's almost like the old gang, isn't it...?" No answer. "I...have you talked to him yet? I'm sure he's dying to sit down and have a proper chat..." _Like I would_...

And _no_ answer!

He swallowed, wiping his palms on his trousers, then swallowed again.

He _needed_ to hear her talk, to hear..._something_! He...couldn't bear it, he just wanted to...to grab her, _shake_ her, _anything_ to get a word out of her!

Yet he didn't dare go nearer.

Finally he coughed, mouth yet again moving of its own volition. "So...Haestrom was...tough."

Tali somehow managed to tense even further, the thin figure looking ready to _snap_.

_Shut_ _up_.

"I mean...all those Geth and all..."

_Shut_ _up_..._please_...

"And the sun...it was hell, I know..."

Before him Tali wasn't moving a muscle, yet seemed to vibrate...tense beyond words.

_God_ _damn_ _it_! _Shut_ _up_!

"But I'm glad you made it...and Kal'Reegar too...isn't that goo-"

Tali spun round, the silver eyes behind the visor narrowed into slits as she glared at him, making him take a step back. Her voice was a _hiss_. "What do you want!" What do you expect!"

His mouth moved...but this time no words came.

She took a step forward...and he one backwards. "You think we can go back to how it used to be! You think we're _friends_ again!" She practically spat the word, body tense, _shaking_ with anger.

And Michael shirked back in horror. "B-but..."

"You're _not_ Michael." The words struck him like a hammer blow...and Michael looked away, unable to face her. "They copied _Shepard_, but I..." The anger in Tali's voice lost its head, turning sad whisper. "...I _can't_..."

Looking back, Michael found Tali taking a step back, head turned to the side as she averted her gaze.

She looked so..._frail_.

Michael's hand moved on its own volition, reaching for the side of her hood, wanting to push under it, to rest his hand against her mask, wanting to show...affection.

She shirked away, out of reach even as Michael's hand dropped, now a dead weight.

He had to ask, his mouth dry as the words escaped him. "If you...why did you agree to come?"

"You..." Tali drew a shuddering breath, still looking away. "...might not be Michael, but..." Only to look back at him, straightening where she stood, some of her old energy returning in her stance. "..._I_ am _still_ Tali'Zorah, and I will do what needs to be done to save my people."

_Still_ _selfless_...

Michael felt a sad smile appear on his lips at the sight...only for it to fade as the energy in Tali's stance disappeared, the Quarian's shoulders slumping as she looked away. "I do this for them...this..." Another shuddering breath. "...this isn't about you...at all...I...no..." Her words failed, the woman unable to continue.

And Michael took a step forward, voice low. "If you think that...why are you..."

"No." The word snapped forth, halting him mid-step. "I..." Tali started to turn, shaking her head. "...leave me alone..."

_No_...

"Tali..."

She turned back to the console. Head downcast as the fingers once more moved over the console. "Leave me alone..." The tone..._begging_...

And Michael found himself retreating, blinking his suddenly blurring vision clear.

_I_...

He walked through the door, gasping for breath as he felt as if his chest was being squeezed by a vice.

_Dammit_...

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_Thanks to Abydos Jackson for surviving._


	32. Chapter 32

"I...just don't know what to do."

Michael took a deep breath, feeling...drained. Looking up he found Garrus looking straight back at him, the Turian's grey eyes steady.

The two were in the small room reserved for calibrating the weapon systems, the silent guns to Michael's right were softly illuminated by red lights he knew would flash in warning the moment they were about to be used. Now, however, all the lights did was throw Garrus' face in sharp relief, turning the scar on the right side of his face into a glowing white brand.

Sitting on the grilled floor, his back against a low crate of replacement parts, Michael looked over at a Garrus doing nearly the same thing, except against the wall itself on the other side. Both had their legs spread and pulled upwards, arms resting on them, both slumped, relaxing.

"Well..." Finally the Turian spoke, obviously weighing his words. "...I _did_ warn you."

A sudden grin cleaved Michael's face as he looked down at the floor between his legs. "That you did. Guess I'm not a good listener, huh?" The grin faded, turning into a grim look as he drew a deep breath. "It's...not how I wanted things."

"But it is how it is." Garrus replied, almost sounding thoughtful. "The question is, what are _you_ going to do?"

"Wh-what?" Michael looked up sharply, only to find the Turian watching him, brow-plate raised in question. "I...don't know I..." He looked away, frowning in frustration. "She made it quite clear that...then again I'm not sure she actually _meant_ it..." He shook his head. He had replayed and analysed every word of Tali's in his head, over and over...and every time he drew a new conclusion, unsure of whether each one was the result he _wanted_ ...or what he _feared_.

_It's_ _complicated_...

Snorting he shook his head further, pursing his lips. "Maybe I should just...try again or something..."

Garrus snorted.

_Anger_.

"Well, what would _you_ do!" Michael looked back up at Garrus, his eyes narrowing. "I can't well do _nothing_!"

Garrus hesitated, but only for a moment. "Actually...you _could_."

"Huh?" Michael's anger instantly faded, being replaced by confusion as he eyed his friend for sarcasm or some kind of joke.

Instead he found the Turian looking...bemused. "Come on, Michael, I told you she's in a bad place, and now we're pushing her even _further_. Ease back a little, give her time to adjust...some _space_." He shrugged. "She'll calm down, come around, I mean she doesn't _actually_ hate you...let her figure that out for herself, instead of making her fend off your attempts to force the issue."

Michael blinked.

_That's_..._good_ _advice_.

Again, he blinked, watching Garrus, curious about the strangely clever suggestion...and then realising he had heard something _similar_ just after picking the Quarian up. "Wow...you sound like Kelly."

"Yeah...well..." Garrus coughed and looked away, offering a shrug. "...my ideas of solving problems usually involves _shooting_ people...but I admit that can't always be the answer...and Kelly's pretty clever...for a human." He shot Michael a smirk.

Michael didn't answer, arching an eyebrow at Garrus.

Silence...and Garrus shifted where he sat, looking decidedly awkward.

Finally, Michael spoke. "Uh...huh?"

"Oh shut up." Garrus snorted, giving Michael a peeved look, drawing a chuckle from the human. "_You_ were the one insisting I shouldn't throw the shrink out on her ass, so...I'm not, I'm even _listening_..."

"Uh...huh?"

Garrus shook his head, mandibles pressing tight against his mouth as he looked back at Michael's amused stare. "I will hurt you."

"Right...well, _anyway_..." Michael smiled and decided to drop the issue...for the moment. "...I'll try to do that then..." He grimaced, annoyed with himself as he admitted his fear. "..._try_ being the operative word."

"Good." Garrus nodded, pleased. "It'll work out, you'll see..." A grimace appeared on the Turian's face as he looked away. "...eugh, can't believe I just _said_ that..." A shrug and he turned back to Michael. "Anyway, are we done with this touchy feely crap so we can do what you _actually_..."

The door opened.

Both looked up, finding Jacob standing in the doorway, looking surprised as his gaze moved between the two seated men, both looking _anything_ but like soldiers on duty. "Erm...Sir?"

_Never a moment to spare_... Michael forced a smile. Before he wouldn't have minded working every waking hour, but that was before Tali, before the victory at the Citadel, before he had started to..._relax_. _Still, duty's duty_... "Yes, Jacob? We're nearing Illium?"

"Yes, Sir, we'll be there in half an hour, they are already hailing us." A look of puzzlement passed Jacob's features. "They wish to confirm _you_ are on the ship...something about docking fees..."

_Oh what joy, the first human Spectre_..._haggling over ticket prices_... Michael chuckled. "Thank you, I'll be with you in a moment."

"Commander." Jacob saluted, making Garrus roll his eyes...just before the human looked over at the Turian. "Oh, and I hope your arm's okay, Vakarian?"

_Huh_?

"Yeah, just a minor sprain." Garrus shrugged, offering a polite smile.

With that, Jacob turned and left, the door thumping close behind him as Michael eyed Garrus with a surprised look on his face. "What have you two been up to?"

"Just some friendly sparring." Garrus replied, cocking his head to the side with a smile. "He's a good guy, that one."

"Yeah...almost _too_ good." Michael groaned as he forced himself to get up.

"Hey now, no complaining." Garrus replied with a chuckle as he too got up. "Considering our roster is full of Cerberus personnel we've been lucky in what we've gotten."

"Oh?" Michael replied, grinning as he stepped into the doorway to the room. "You mean like Kelly?"

"Why you little...!" Garrus' words were cut off as Michael quickly jumped into the corridor beyond, letting the door slam shut before an annoyed looking Garrus.

Surprised with actually being in a _good_ mood now...Michael went to see what Illium wanted.

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Tali _hated_ Illium.

At first it had just been a general dislike, but landing on it, seeing it first hand...she had quickly learnt to hate it.

Illium was _beautiful_, every building made as much with aesthetics in minds as it was for function. Everything was polished, clean...new and fresh, the millions of lights of the city around reflecting in every facet of the elegant towers covering the planet.

It shone like a jewel.

Illium was _rich_, everywhere Tali looked she saw Asari in clothing more expensive than those on the _Presidium_ wore. Trading in stocks, things that didn't even _exist_, occurred _everywhere_...and for sums Tali couldn't even _imagine_! And those buying luxury goods were even _worse_, buying trinkets no larger then a glass bead, and often just as frail and _useless_, for _vast_ sums.

It was depraved.

And all that _wealth_, all that _beauty_...was _denied_ to her people. The Flotilla wasn't even allowed to be in the same _system_, never mind land any ships on the planet, not even for _emergency_ repairs... _For the __wise__ and __gentle__ Asari couldn't well help such filthy vagrants, __obviously_. Tali grimaced.

Once her people had held an embassy in the Citadel, been respected by all as a growing force in the galaxy...only for the Geth rebellion to change all that. No help had come, oh no...for creating an AI, even by _accident_, was _illegal_...so there had been no help from the Quarians' 'allies', not a single ship or soldier. There had only been death...the death of _billions_ of Quarians. Usually, Tali's anger was reserved for the Geth and their heinous deeds...but those times she saw the opulence others lived in, and the way they looked down upon her people...she found herself seething.

It wasn't made any better by Illium's government accepting solitary Quarians on pilgrimage either. Why _wouldn't_ the Asari accept them? They made such _good_ workers...and since most were so naïve of the world outside the Flotilla they worked for so _little_. Hell, if you were _lucky_ you could even trick them into indentured servitude, that way you had a good little Quarian slave for _years_!

It was _infuriating_.

Walking through it all had been disgusting. Everywhere, wealth her people would sorely need to _survive_ was _squandered_ in bids for _more_ wealth to be left on some account, just for the sake of it! And then there were the _beautiful_ Asari; they were _everywhere_, laughing and carefree, at times shooting her the odd look of disgust, as if she were some sort of rat that had recently crawled out of the sewer.

Though admittedly those glances were few and far between, most looked at _Shepard_ after all...

_Eugh_... Tali growled at the thought, her teeth gnashing.

It wasn't that she _cared_...not _really_...but it was _irritating_ to see just about every Asari fawn and stare at the man, as if they'd never seen a human before.

Sure, Tali remembered two years ago when Michael had teased her about him being voted the most eligible bachelor in five extranet papers..._three_ of which had been mainly for Asari...but that was_ two years_ ago! He had _died_ since then!

_I suppose coming back from the dead is __mysterious_... Tali snorted, shaking her head as she leant against the wall she had occupied while she waited for him.

_Don't they see he's just a copy_? _A_ _duplicate_? _Shepard_ _but_ _not_ _Michael_? Obviously, they _didn't_. Everywhere they had gone Tali had found Asari stopping what they were doing to stare, some even having the _audacity_ to move closer and try to _speak_ to him, coming with papers to sign autographs on, not to mention giving...she shuddered..._offers_.

Not that she cared.

It was made no better by the _familiar_ faces...

They had bumped into that Asari, Shiala, they had saved back on Feros two years ago...who _of course_ had needed help. It had gone well...except for her _obviously_ making a pass at Mich-_Shepard_. Tali grimaced, it was hard to think of him as Shepard, and not Michael...but she would _not_ give in, she _refused_...

Then there was that _human_ woman...Tali drew a quick breath of annoyance. Gianna Parasini from Noveria was...well..._beautiful_...and obviously _clever_...and _confident_...and the peck on Shepard's cheek _had_ been chaste..._somewhat_... Though the woman _probably_ wanted more...the slut...

Not that Tali cared...

And then Liara, _Liara_ of all people! _I could have died happily never meeting her again_...

So now Tali was leaning against a wall, ignoring Liara's secretary as she impatiently waited for the door to Liara's office to open...since the Asari wanted to speak to Shepard, _alone_. The man the beautiful Asari had a close bond with and who had melded with him so many times before... _alone_...Tali huffed at the thought, the arms over her chest wounding tighter around it.

It wasn't like she _cared_...

_Why did I join again_? _To_ _fight_ _Reapers_? She shook her head, looking down on her alien feet, her thoughts hollow to her mind._ I should have died on Haestrom_...

The sound of approaching footsteps made her look up, finding Garrus coming up the stairs towards the office, something in his movement looking..._amused_. "Ah, still waiting?"

"Yes." She grumbled, not wanting to be dragged into whatever he was planning.

"Well, I suppose they have a lot of catching up to do..." Garrus replied with mirth in his tone as he came up to her level. Standing next to her the Turian dwarfed her...and she found her head tilting back as she glared at him and his..._stupid_ words! "Wonder what they're talking about?"

_If__ they're talking_... Tali looked away, shrugging in disinterest. "Who cares?"

"Wow, grumpy, aren't we? What, something crawled into your suit and died?" Garrus asked, the amusement not fading from his voice.

Tali looked back to him, eyes narrowing. Garrus was her _friend_, or...at least he _had_ been, she noted...but their time apart had apparently not ruined his ability to _really_ strain her patience... "What do you want?"

"You know..." Garrus' mirth faded, the Turian placing a hand on the wall above Tali as he leant closer till he reached her level, concern written in his stance. "...you're making it _really_ hard to try and cheer you up."

_Good_. Tali looked away, ignoring the jab of guilt at her heart. "Is _that_ what you were doing? I thought you were just trying to make fun of me."

"Because you're so laughable?" Garrus retorted, concern in his voice.

_You won't get me riled up_. Tali didn't answer, shrugging as she looked at her feet, feeling..._alone_...and preferring it. _It's better that way_...

A sigh...and the Turian moved to lean against the wall next to her, drawing a glance from her.

_Oh great_..._it's_ _not_ _over_.

Silence.

Then Garrus could no longer hold his tongue. "So, funny story. I was over in a bar not far from here and overheard this conversation..." _Lucky_ _you_. "...it was between this Turian and a Quarian that couldn't take a hint..." _Was she a slave_? _Or do they just call us pets now_? "...and she brought up this interesting thing..." _I'm on the edge of my seat_. "...how does that nerve stimulator program work?"

Tali blinked.

_Wh-what_!

"E-excuse me!" She looked up at Garrus and took a step back, shock flooding her as she stared at the obviously amused Turian.

"What? I'm just curious...how does it work?" Garrus replied, chuckling with every word.

"H-how should _I_ know!" Tali replied, voice a bit too high pitched for her tastes, shrugging fervently as she took another step away from the Turian. "I've _never_..._why_ would you ask such a question!" She swallowed, paranoid whether she had uninstalled the program since last time or if it was still there, showing up if Garrus hacked her interface...not that he would _succeed_..._would_ he! "I...that's disgusting!"

"It's just a _question_." Garrus pointed out, still chuckling. "No need to get all defensive about it."

"I'm _not_ defensive!" Tali snapped, annoyed with the sudden trickle of cold sweat running down her back. _Keelah_..._I_ _hate_ _you_!

"Riiight..." Garrus looked exceedingly amused as he took a step closer and leant forward. "...if I didn't know better my c-sec experience is actually telling me you _indeed_ know-"

"I have a shotgun." It was a desperate gambit, but it was all Tali could manage that wouldn't reveal the tremble in her voice as she struggled with a sudden flood of guilt and embarrassment. Under her mask she narrowed her eyes at the Turian in threat...even as her lip quivered.

Garrus stopped, hesitated...and then leant back, amusement fading as he held up his hands in placation. "Okay, sorry...didn't mean to make you embarrassed."

"You didn't." Tali lied, looking away with a huff. _I_..._I'm_ _incapable_ _of_ _that_. She grimaced, fervently wishing back that grey dullness that had become her emotions once more, _anything_ but the..._vulnerability_.

Luckily, Garrus didn't press things. "Okay." He moved, once more leaning back against the wall next to Tali, his arms crossing over his chest as he joined her in waiting.

Silence.

And then, _finally_, the door to Liara's office slid open.

Before them, Michael and Liara walked side by side, only to come to a stop in the doorway as Liara reached out, a hand gripping a hold of Michael's arm as she offered a soft nod. "Thank you..." _For_ _what_? "...I needed to hear those words." _Oh_... Tali grimaced, annoyed with herself, with suddenly being off balance, which she _shouldn't_ be.

_I __don't__ care_...

"I'm glad." Mi-_Shepard_ replied, making Tali gnash her teeth. _He's Shepard, __Shepard_! "But...Liara..." He reached out...and took the Asari's hands in his, stance worried. _I don't care_... "Be careful, okay? I don't want you to...just...be careful?"

"This coming from _you_?" Liara quipped with a toothy smile, drawing a grin from Shepard as he looked down at his feet. He didn't let go though, his hands holding hers as he looked back up, serious once more...and this time Liara looked away, nodding. "I will call...if I need help...it's a promise."

"Thank you." _Finally_, Shepard let go of Liara's hands and stepped forth. He shot Tali a surprisingly shy look...but then looked away, brushing past without a word. _Odd_... They had been on the planet for a few hours now...and so far Mi-_Shepard_ hadn't said a _word_ to her...

It was a relief...and annoyingly frustrating at the same time, leaving her alone with her thoughts...she didn't like that, it created..._doubt_.

Tali realised she had moved to follow Shepard down the stairs...since Liara's hand had closed around her arm, politely holding her back. "He said you could catch up later over at Eternity bar...would you mind staying for a bit? I'd like to talk to you."

Tali didn't answer, only standing still as she looked down at the hand holding her arm with a sneer of dislike.

Liara released Tali's arm, her tone soft. "Please...?"

Tali sighed, looking after the retreating back of Shepard and Garrus. She really should just continue, but then again walking down there with those two was torture...not that talking to Liara was any better. Though...of course...to her dulled mind it made no difference... _Keelah I want to believe that_...

Finally, she shrugged, turning to follow Liara as the Asari moved back into her office, instantly feeling trapped the moment the door closed behind her.

As Liara moved round the desk dominating the centre of the room Tali looked around herself. The majority of the walls were nearly transparent, consisting of one large holographic projector Liara used for...Tali wasn't sure _what_ you called the work Liara had told them of. The desk itself was neat and tidy, nearly empty save a few empty glasses and a stack of papers, there were small couches on either flank of the room, but, Tali dully noted...no _bed_.

Liara sat down and opened her mouth...but it was Tali who spoke first, leaning on one heel as she crossed her arms over her chest. "I'm surprised you want to speak to me."

"Because of the funeral and what happened...yes...I guess it _does_ seem strange." Liara replied, sounding diplomatic, as she _always_ did. Tali _hated_ that... "Please, sit down." She gestured for the chair before Tali.

A sigh...and Tali gave in, moving to sit down in the chair opposite Liara...and finding her shoulders bunching up in annoyance with how comfortable it was. _Bet it cost a fortune, guess some of us have done well for themselves_..._why risk dying trying to save your Commander when you can own a fancy chair_?

She glared at the Asari, who looked back, her stance pensive. "The words you said back at the funeral...I know you spoke them in anger, you didn't mean them."

"Didn't I?" Tali asked, crossing her arms over her chest as she leant back in the chair. "How _nice_ it must be to be a clever Asari doctor who can just _decide_ what we others mean."

Liara flinched, looking guilty...

_As well you should be, you failed him_..._I_..._you_ _failed_ _him_.

"You...I know we were not close friends back on the Normandy, but I think we at least had a level of respect and acceptance." Liara finally replied, once more mastering herself. "Deep down...you _know_ I did what I could."

_I_... Tali looked away, biting her lower lip in annoyance, then she forced herself to growl. "No, I don't, you could have been faster, disobeyed, not run for the escape pods and...saved him." The last words were anything _but_ a growl, pathetically small.

"I did _everything_ I could." Liara retorted, conviction in her voice. "I did more than..." Looking back up, Tali found the Asari looking down at her desk, on the folded hands before her, stance suddenly tense and agitated. "...more then you could _imagine_."

Silence.

Then Liara looked up, a smile on her face. "It doesn't matter, what's important is that he's back, he's _alive_ Tali..."

"Ah, he's hired you to convince me he's the same as before..." Tali grumbled, looking away. _Just a copy_..._he's just a copy_...

"No, in fact he didn't mention you."

_What_? Tali looked up.

And found a softness in Liara's stance as the Asari spoke. "Well...I could sense something in the way he spoke...but I didn't pry, he clearly didn't want me to." A pause. "But...you don't believe this? That he's the same? He _is_..."

"And you would know, right?" Tali scoffed, shaking her head, annoyed with the strange mix of feelings churning within her. "Melded and all? You know _everything_ about him..."

"Not everything." Liara replied, ignoring Tali's angry tone. "And I didn't meld with him if you're worried about it." The tension Tali's shoulders released a bit. _I'm_ _not_... "He didn't want to, for some reason..."_ I don't care_...

"Fun for him." Tali shrugged in disinterest.

Liara hesitated. "Are you...okay?"

And Tali flinched, not having expected the question from the woman. "I fail to see how that's any of _your_ business, but I'm _fine_."

"You don't _look_ fine..." Liara pushed...and Tali found herself shooting to her feet, unable to sit still a _moment_ longer.

"How would _you_ know?" Tali snapped, a hand shooting up to gesture at her mask. "I'm fine! Just...just stop trying to _help_!" She retreated, shaking her head as she muttered under her breath. "You should _all_ stop trying to help..." Behind her the door slid open...and Tali turned to leave.

"Tali." The name stopped her in her track, forcing her to look back at Liara...who looked weary as she spoke. "Please...I just want to know if there's _peace_ between us, you _know_ it wasn't my fault, and we've been through so much together...please...peace?"

Tali hesitated.

She didn't need to think about it, she didn't _want_ to think about it! Not again, not after all the pain she'd been through when the news had reached the Flotilla about Michael's death...yet Liara was forcing it on her...and Tali didn't feel ready.

_I_..._I just want the nightmare to be __over_...

She barely managed a nod, voice a whisper. "Peace..."

And then she was moving, leaving, hurrying after Shepard, hurrying after _more_ pain...

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_Thanks to Abydos Jackson for enduring...well...me._


	33. Chapter 33

Miranda was...surprised.

Having arrived at Illium she had expected for Michael to, while not go back on his word, then at _least_ postpone her relocating her sister until they had found the assassin and the Justicar. Miranda would have understood that, she wouldn't have _liked_ it, but she would have _understood_ the necessity of prioritizing the greater task.

Yet _right_ after Michael had his chat with Liara T'soni – Miranda had made sure to keep away, her previous dealings with the Asari made for a volatile situation after all – Michael had come down to join Miranda in making sure Oriana got onto the transport safely. In fact, he had turned it into a _mission_, requesting the _entire_ ground team to help out. While Miranda had _preferred_ it to be more private, the extra security was..._appreciated_.

Standing on a balcony overlooking the security terminal she curiously glanced over at the man.

Michael was standing under the shadow of a pillar, though easily seen on the upper floor they were on it at least kept him somewhat hidden from any trouble makers on the ground floor below. A ground floor his gaze moved back and forth over, searching for trouble Miranda hoped wouldn't come.

_Why put so much effort in helping_? _You don't rightly care for me, nor do you understand loyalty to family since you've barely had one_..._why_ _this_..._dedication_?

Miranda felt puzzled...and shook it off, not wanting the distraction.

The pair drew quite a few looks from the steady stream of travellers behind them. While Illium was lax on weapon and armour control, Michael's equipment was enough to stand out, not to mention a few no doubt recognised his face and went by staring in awe. The looks Miranda drew were, in contrast, more _basic_ in their reasons, but she had become used to that years ago and stoically ignored them.

Turning back to the ground floor where Niket would arrive to make sure the terminal to Oriana's flight was clear of any of father's contacts Miranda looked for the others.

Below there was a large crowd of people walking to and fro the terminals over on the left end of the room, all bustling and busy with their bags, children and tickets...a hive of barely controlled activity. The balconies of the second level were a bit better, the traffic there largely reserved for people passing through or coming to Illium...yet that too meant quite a few people.

Miranda didn't like that, but there was little they could do about it.

At least it hid the others quite well.

Garrus was standing near the terminals, the Turian looking every bit like a bored security guard as he leant against a wall, fingers drumming on the Vindicator rifle in his hands. Yet for such a bored guard his head was constantly turning left and right, scanning the crowd for trouble.

A little away from him Jack was pacing back and forth, her glare making people take wide detours to get past.

Jacob was at the other side of the line of terminals, talking with nothing but a dial tone in a public terminal...and Mordin was close to him, the Salarian's armour hidden under a wide leather coat as he sat slumped on a bench, as if bored to near sleep while waiting for his flight.

Above the terminals, on Miranda's level, Kasumi, Grunt and Zaeed stood in plain sight. The mercenary and Krogan looked like every bit the _bored_ bodyguards as they flanked the woman looking over the floor...which they probably _were_. Kasumi on the other hand was waving a hand about while keeping the other pressed against an ear, _loudly_ holding an argument over some non-existent business-deal over _millions_ of credits...

_She's enjoying this too much_...

Sighing, Miranda's gaze moved to the right, over the crowds and filled benches of waiting people, over to the doors on the other end, the doors open for people entering the flight-terminal, one of which would soon be _Niket_.

_What's taking him so long_!

Suppressing the urge to wander back and forth, Miranda instead grabbed a hold of the railing, fingers swiftly drumming on the cold steel._ He's late_..._we have to secure the place, see if any of father's agents is here before Oriana and her family arrives_..._why_ _is_ _he_ _late_!

"You seem...tense." Michael muttered, the man not taking his eyes off the floor below.

Shooting him an irritated glance Miranda sighed. "Is it that strange? He's late and Oriana will soon arrive, I can't afford mistakes on this one..."

"Hmmm..." The man mumbled, frowning. "...you don't seem the protective _type_."

Miranda spun, glaring at him, an angry retort on her tongue...but held it back with a force of will, reluctantly admitting he had a point...and that she didn't want to cause a scene. She turned back to the sights below. "I am when it comes to _Oriana_, she will _not_ have my upbringing."

She felt Michael's eyes on her, but ignored him, staring angrily at the floor below.

It hadn't been the training, it hadn't been the constant classes, or the examinations, needles and probes, all aimed on ensuring _perfection_.

It had been the _coldness_, the sterile walls, the masked doctors, the _constant_ scrutiny of _dozens_ of strangers . It had been her father, standing behind cold glass and smiling, not at _her_, but at her _progress_.

It had been every toy being not just a toy, but a way to _control_ her, a way to _test_ her. Every playmate, every meal, every gift...

"Miranda?" She blinked, startled by Shepard's question. "You're all right?"

_Dammit_. "I'm fine, Shepard." She replied, annoyed with herself. One of the foremost things she'd learnt back in father's..._lab_...had been _never_ to show weakness, it yielded additional tests and probes. And while his work was vile it was a _valuable_ lesson, one that had helped her break out and _survive_ out in the real world. "I want this over with."

Silence.

Then Michael's voice, calm and assertive. "We _will_ get her out."

Miranda looked over at him surprise, finding his gaze steady on her, the confidence in his eyes..._convincing_. "I...thank you, Commander." She frowned, looking away. "This is important to me, I _will_ repay you."

"There is no need."

She snorted. "There _is_, don't try to be the selfless hero, Shepard, it's not convincing."

A small chuckle greeted her words? "Maybe I _am_, you know?" Glancing over at him she found herself caught off guard by the wink the man shot her. "Or maybe I'm just a good person wanting to help another?"

"I'm not a good person." Miranda scoffed, looking away, irritated with his words.

"Oh? I'd say someone willing to risk her life on a mission likely to be a one-way trip to save a galaxy to be good person." She could sense Michael shrugging next to her...and grumbled inwardly at his annoying words.

Looking away she shrugged. "I'm sure you have an angle with this, I don't expect you to tell me...but you have one." _Make me more loyal_? _Make me doubt my dedication to Cerberus_? _Seeing Oriana so you know you have leverage_? _Train the team_? It could be any of them, or _all_ of them...Miranda didn't much care, in Cerberus as well as in reality, people _always_ had an angle...and the best one could do was to make that work for you instead of against you.

"Well..." Michael hesitated, sounding guilty. _Ha_! _Knew_ _it_! "...since you've read my file I guess it's obvious." Miranda blinked, mentally scanning his file... _Erm_..._no_, _it_ _isn't_... "I lost what little family I had; through my own actions no less..."

_Oh_..._right_. Miranda had read of his mother dying of an overdose...though the file said little else it was likely that Shepard had supplied her at least a couple of times during his time as a criminal.

Miranda glanced over at the man, finding him still looking down at the main floor, a pensive look on his face. "...and you have equally little in terms of family...but are trying to _save_ it." He looked over at her, smile warm. "Helping with that...would make me feel better about my own lot."

_Oh_...

Miranda blanched, for all her intelligence...she found herself unable to come up with a retort. It sounded so sincere, so _simple_...it didn't quite fit with...well..._anything_! It felt...alien.

_That's_..._a_ _strange_ _angle_...

Michael watched whatever face she was making, Miranda herself wasn't sure what it was doing anymore, and smirked. "Cat caught your tongue?" She looked away, frowning in irritation and...confusion. "Don't worry, it happens to the best of us."

_Maybe_... "So all this...you do it to feel better about yourself? Redemption?" _That_..._works_..._somewhat_. Miranda's frown didn't disappear.

"In part, making you feel better _makes_ me feel better, it's a...success I guess." Michael replied, once more baffling Miranda. _That_..._doesn't_ _make_ _sense_. "Command is about _more_ then giving orders, it's about _caring_ for those under your charge, it's an obligation, although a nice one...I thought you'd understand this by now?"

_Caring_...? Miranda grimaced, a bad taste in her mouth, she didn't want to talk about this, not any more. "Sure, sure...where's the Quarian?"

Next to her she felt Michael smirk at her obvious attempt to change the subject with a question she already knew the answer to...and she found herself a little frustrated of him obliging. "Hidden, hacking the security network, she should-"

As if she had heard them Tali spoke up in the radio, the alien warble of her voice tinged with confusion. "Miranda, Mi-Shepard, turn around, he's approaching you...?"

_What_? Miranda turned around, away from the sight below, where he _should_ be. _That_ _doesn't_...

_Niket_.

The man looked _older_, as if he'd aged since the last time she'd talked to him, despite it not being long ago. His steps were weary as he approached her in an old leathery suit, his balding head glistening with sweat. "Miri...I had hoped you'd be too busy and let me handle this..." There was..._regret_ in his tone.

_Oh_ _no_... Miranda's eyes widened at the implication, only now seeing the four Eclipse mercenaries at Niket's back...

_No_..._no_ _that_ _can't_ _be_ _right_...

And then Michael's pistol appeared in her vision, tracking the man, making him take a step back in shock. "Selling her out are you? For her father?" The growl was _dangerous_...and around them people began to run as the four Eclipse mercenaries drew their weapons, more coming running...a _lot_ more.

Swallowing, Niket steadied himself, looking over to Shepard. "Her father can give Oriana better life; a life of wealth."

"It's _not_ a life!" Miranda found herself snapping, taking a step forth as her biotics flared up. Below someone screamed a warning...and there was a stampede of running feet. Miranda was barely aware of it though, gaze fixed upon Niket. "You _know_ what that place is like! She would either become a _puppet_ or be _discarded_! Her real family isn't _rich_ but they're _happy_!" She swallowed, throat tight all of a sudden as she furiously blinked away the pain of the betrayal. "You...Niket...you _know_ this..."

"I know what being _poor_ is like..." The man responded, raising his chin. "You wanted to leave, I understood that, but don't deny this for _her_..."

"That place is nothing _but_ for denying things!" Miranda choked out. "She'll be nothing but a _lab-rat_! You _know_ this!" The heat in her voice petered out, defeat heavy on her shoulders as she realised what would have to be done. Still...she had to know. "H-how...much did he _pay_ you...?"

Niket hesitated, guilt crossing his features for a moment. "A great deal."

"I...I..."_ I should have know, the wealth turns everyone_..._yet for all my paid playmates I never __thought_..._oh_ _Niket_... " I understand..." She sighed, shoulders slumping, grief tugging at her...and drew her gun. She forced herself to look into Niket's eyes, seeing the grief there as well...and as much as she didn't want to...she felt the bond they shared as she brought the weapon to bear, heedless of the dozens of Eclipse lining up their shots upon her. _For_ _Oriana_... "...then I guess this is how it'll end, I'm sorry..."

He met her eyes...and nodded, _knowing_. "Me too, Miri, me too..."

She swallowed, the gun in her hand heavy, _shaking_...

A bang.

And Miranda stared in horror as the blood welled up from the wound in Niket's chest, lowering her pistol in a daze...

The man's hands moved up to the wound, poking at it in confusion as he looked down at it...and then up...up to Shepard and the Spectre's smoking pistol.

He fell, dead.

And regret rent at Miranda...only to be interrupted by a storm of shots as the Eclipse mercenaries opened up upon her

A flare of her shields...and then she was pushed low by Shepard, the man shielding her from the close ranged fire with his armoured bulk, a grunt escaping him as the torrent tore through his shields and slammed into his body...while Miranda stared at the smoking pistol he held so close to her. _Niket_...

Her thoughts were jarred a moment later as Michael grabbed her around the waist and leapt...right over the bannister of the balcony.

They fell..twisted...and dropped onto their backs on the floor below, Miranda forcing her gun up along with Shepard's, dutifully putting a hole through the visor of a mercenary leaning down to look after them.

To her right, shots were being fired, the hidden team coming forth, guns blazing, instantly flanking the horde of undisciplined Eclipse. Jack's biotics were flaring, sending a blast of pure energy forth and into the second floor, sending mercenaries flying out over the banister or skidding over the floor...

But Miranda barely paid it much heed.

She moved into cover, pistol again and again taking the shot, killing the enemies as the terminal exploded into chaos. Her biotics flared, hurling people around, her omni-tool glowed, shortening shields...

It was automatic, drilled into her by countless years of training, her_ father's_ training...

She couldn't appreciate the irony though, she fought, the mercenaries died...and it made no difference

_Niket_...

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"Why?"

The terminal was secure, things had been cleaned up by Cerberus agents, and while Oriana and her family had been delayed to a flight tomorrow, and would once more be _safe_, she felt..._empty_.

"Why?" Miranda repeated the question, shaking her head as she stood on a bridge overlooking the vast city Illium was. She was glad the others were off on other duties...though at the moment she would have preferred the silent man behind her to also be gone, to leave her alone with that..._emptiness_.

The wind tugged at her, wanting to pull her over the edge and down the long fall below...but Miranda resisted the urge to comply, knowing it to be madness, a waste...

Still...it hurt.

Finally, Michael replied, voice soft. "He had to die, I think he even wanted it..."

"I...yes." Miranda admitted, squeezing her eyes shut. She had seen the look in his eyes, the guilt...and seen how he hadn't flinched from her gun. He had made a decision, but when confronted...guilt had made him step forth to own up to it. "B-but why...I should have been the one to..."

She couldn't finish the sentence, it was _unthinkable_.

_Niket_..._you damn fool, we were friends_..._and you sold me out, I should have been the one to_...

Nor could she finish the _thought_.

A sigh...and she felt Michael move closer, coming to stand next to her. A glance...and she saw he was looking over at the cityscape, a thoughtful frown on his face. "Better you hate _me_...than _yourself_." A little smile tugged at his lips at that. "Trust me on that."

"But..."

Miranda bit her lip, looking away, annoyed with herself. She had _known_ that was the reason, to protect her from the pain...she had known it _before_ he'd even moved to cover her from all those shots... And _why_? No reason but to protect one under him, at the cost of _himself_ if need be...and _no_ ulterior motive...

She knew it...and had no response to it, didn't know what to do. He didn't want anything in return, not even a 'thank you' was expected, in fact he was expecting her to be _angry_ with him...and he was ready to _take_ it...just because it would help.

She swallowed...and forced herself to continue. "...but I _don't_..." She looked over at him again, finding him staring at her in surprise...and caught herself smiling. "...thank you, Shepard."

Silence.

Then he bowed his head, ever so slightly. "You're welcome."

The words hung there, surprisingly...soothing...and Miranda smiled, happy.

Then she shook herself, shrugging aside the strange sensation. "Anyway, we have work to do, and we're now three hours behind schedule, I suggest..."

Michael's chuckle interrupted her, making her throw him as much of an annoyed glance as she was capable of at the moment. He grinned at her. "Straight back to business, eh? You don't want the day off?"

Miranda shook her head, snorting. "I don't _have_ days off...now are you just going to stand there or are you going to do what we're _supposed_ to be doing?"

"Right, right, we'll pretend this never happened...wouldn't want the others thinking you have a _soul_...?"

"I..." Miranda hesitated. "...would _appreciate_ that." Then snorted. "Now quit making fun of me, we're on a serious mission."

"Fine, fine...spoilsport."

"I _heard_ that."

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_Thanks you to Abydos Jackson for her dedicated slaving._


	34. Chapter 34

"That's a lot of security."

Kasumi chuckled at her own words, the thief _sounding_ amused, yet the way her body stood...the amusement seemed oddly...superficial, as if she didn't really mean it. Tali didn't have time to think about it though, she too looking around the corner of the hallway they were in as Kasumi continued. "You know...for _Eclipse_."

The thief was right though.

The three of them had entered what had almost resembled a cellar to the second Dantius tower...but had shown itself to be a dark maze of tubes and cables and the distant dripping of water. Not that they had been surprised; they had been given the complete blueprints of the place from that Asari, Seryna, Nassana's former security officer..._including_ where they hid their security office.

Until now they had met nothing but empty corridors and dark shadows...yet around the corner the corridor opened into a room full of piles of debris, rusty pipes disappearing into the ceiling and floor, the odd puddle of water, a door at the far side...and a dozen Eclipse mercenaries seemingly loitering in the space.

They looked bored.

Several were leaning against the walls on the sides, nearly dozing. A few others had taken a seat on one of the larger piles of broken machinery digging into lunch-boxes they'd brought. _None_ looked Tali's way...

_Undisciplined_...

Holding back a sigh, Tali leaned back into cover as Miranda, having leaned forward just behind her, shook her head and followed the Quarian's example, even to the point of echoing her thought with a snort. "Undisciplined lot, this will be easy."

Tali didn't reply, eyeing the human with curiosity.

She hadn't moved from checking the security systems back at Illium's spaceport, knowing that the rest of the team would mow down the mercenaries Niket had brought before she'd make it over there. Instead she had _watched_...

She had told herself it was to see if the mercenaries were bringing any reinforcements, even though she knew she would have spotted that already...

But no...she had watched...because she had _seen_ what Michael had done.

Miranda hadn't, not even _after_ the fight, looked all that upset with Shepard for killing her friend, the friend _she_ had been about to shoot... She _had_ been upset, but _not_ with him...which Michael's body language told Tali he had expected, probably even _planned_.

_Because it would have been easier for her if Miranda had blamed __him_..._instead_ _of_ _herself_.

Tali swallowed, the thought uncomfortable, far too close to her heart...a thought that, while mostly subconscious, had _never_ stopped hounding her since his return...

She didn't like it, yet she couldn't get rid of it...and it was becoming more and more...incessant.

Not that what had happened next in _any_ way had _helped_... Michael had, as habit dictated, led from the front, doing the difficult manoeuvres rather then risk someone else, drawing fire and shouting orders... It had been nothing but the _usual_ for a battle with him, no casualties and the enemy annihilated by a man whose armour had taken more hits then anyone else in the fight, as _always_.

That alone wouldn't have been much cause for thought, but what had happened just _before_ that _was_...

It hadn't been the same pose, but it had been the same _intent_ as it had been two years ago. Him standing between Miranda and a horde of mercenaries, taking the shots to protect her, getting _hurt_, yet _still_ in control as he moved to bring _her_, _not_ himself, to safety.

That moment was still etched into Tali's memory. That of Fist's thugs, of Saren's contact hurting her as they moved in...and then of him crashing in, shielding her with his _unarmoured_ bulk...yet completely focused on continuing the fight, even while standing in a way that invited death for him.

It was the _same_ selflessness, the same _control_...a conscious choice to force the danger upon himself for another, yet without accepting defeat. Tali couldn't deny it...and it...she wasn't sure if she was relieved or pained to see it.

_Michael_... She frowned under her mask, tasting the name. She didn't like thinking it, or rather, she _did_...and she _hated_ that...it...confused her about what she was supposed to be doing. _It's about the Reapers, it's about not being a danger to my people, it's not about_..._Michael_. She smiled at the name...and hated herself for it. _Coming along was a mistake_...

And Miranda...

Tali looked back to the human, watching her speak to Kasumi, and felt annoyed with herself at her own eyes narrowed.

Miranda had so far shown no interest...not that Tali had any claim on him...but considering how much of a help Michael had been...not that Miranda would suddenly...not that Tali _cared_...that is...

_Keelah_!

Tali felt like _punching_ the woman...and it made no sense.

Miranda, oblivious to Tali's confusing storm of emotions supposed to be thoughts, turned and spoke.

Tali shook her head, blinking. "Sorry, what?"

Miranda shifted, annoyed...and Tali found her eyes narrowing even further, despite knowing her team-leader had good reason to be annoyed. "I was _saying_...Kasumi will cloak in among them, then we draw their attention so she can pounce upon them. When we have dealt with them we head into the next room and take over the security systems...you _can_ hack them, I assume?"

"Oh _no_." Tali snorted, rolling her eyes.. "A security system for some corporate big shot? I'd _never_ be able to crack it..."

Miranda shifted, even _more_ annoyed. "Sarcasm _isn't_ appreciated."

Tali opened her mouth, scathing reply at the ready...but then controlled herself, knowing she would just make things worse. Instead she moved to glance past the corner again, not wanting to look at the human any longer. "Sure."

"Hmmm..." Miranda's tone was not all that encouraging...but then she too dropped it. "Good, we don't have much time, Shepard is already on the move and needs intel. Kasumi, when you're ready."

"Oh this will be _fun_..." Kasumi muttered, a hint of excitement in her voice, almost lost in the slight buzz made by her stealth unit as the thief turned into nothing but a shifting wave in the air and moved forth.

Tali drew her shotgun, sliding it forth, ready...and felt Miranda's hand on her shoulder as the other woman held her back. "Wait...give her a moment..._now_."

Tali didn't fire, instead her left arm shot forth, omni-tool aglow, activating her one friend back in the Flotilla.

Chiktikka vas Paus hurtled out from one of Tali's pockets, the little drone swishing forth, the dazzling holograms of the drone activating a moment later, setting the corridor between her and Miranda and the Eclipse mercenaries alight with his purple glow. Tali knew it was a bit..._girly_ to make it purple, as Michael would have no doubt said...but she liked it, and that was what was important. The knowledge made her smile; _remember_.

She remembered back when the drone had been nothing but an element zero core and some scraps...and how Michael had wondered about his name...and _why_ it was a he...and then the _tickling_...that moment had been precious for her...for _so_ long...the realisation almost made her _sad_.

Yet during that time...Chiktikka had become _more_ then a simple assistant.

"Hey, what's that...?" One of the mercenaries straightened where she stood against a wall, the others following the human's example as all eyes turned to the glowing drone heading for them...and therefore not spotting the hazy outline of Kasumi as she snuck around them...

Another mercenary, a Salarian with his armour glowing with protective extra shields, cocked his head to the side as he moved up behind the woman. "A maintenance drone? Here? Why the holographic projection around it? It's not like we'll try to shoot it..."

The human woman smiled even as Chiktikka came closer, leaning forward to grin at the machine "It's kind of cute, hey there little-" Chiktikka fired, the bolt of released energy crackling forth. _Technically_ it was supposed to primarily damage shields and synthetics...but organic flesh didn't _like_ bolts of lightning either, _especially_ not those striking the optic nerves...

With a shriek the woman leapt backwards, hands flying up to clutch at her eyes as she stumbled and fell, body writhing on the floor in agony.

The Salarian's big eyes widened, hand reaching back for his gun...only for him to drop it as Chiktikka's next bolt flayed his shield and forced him a step backwards. The mercenary growled, angry now as he crouched towards his gun. "Why you little-!"

A thunderous boom...and the shotgun in Tali's hands jerked, the blast striking the Salarian in the face...and blowing it apart into nothing but green gore, instantly felling the alien.

Another mercenary moved forth, lining up his weapon towards Tali...only for Miranda, having moved to the other corner of the entrance, to quickly put him down with a burst of submachine gun fire to his head.

A human man leapt forward, shotgun blasting a chunk out of the corner Tali was covering behind...only to stumble and drop onto all four with a grunt as Chiktikka's shot struck him in the gut. Then he rose..._levitating_ rather then rising...dark energy surrounding him...before he was _slammed_ into the floor with a sickening crunch, Miranda's glowing body still firing her weapon at the other mercenaries as they moved to counter-attack...

Never seeing the shadow becoming solid behind them...

Kasumi seemed to _flow_ forward, pushing into the back of the rearmost man, the black spike of her left gauntlet punching straight through his body and shooting out of his chest with a crunch and a spurt of red blood. The Salarian just ahead of him turned at the sound...only to find his face inches from Kasumi's pistol as she aimed over the shoulder of the now dead human...and fired.

Even as the Salarian fell the others began to turn...only for Tali and Miranda to open up with all they had, those not having reached cover tumbled and fell with terrified screams and death rattles. Chiktikka's blinding flash of lightning caused yet further commotion among the armoured thugs thinking themselves mercenaries, turning their budding resistance into chaos.

Ahead, Kasumi was tossing the human corpse she was holding aside. Spun...and her sweeping high kick took another human in the head, sending him tumbling towards Tali...whose shotgun blasted him off his feet in an explosion of shattered armour, blood and bone.

And then it was over.

The mercenaries had been taken off guard, tricked, flanked, confused and now...they lay dead.

Moving over the bodies, careful not to slip on the blood, Tali moved a hand to her hip, opening the pocket there wide...and Chiktikka dutifully whizzed down into it with a disappointed toot. Now next to her Kasumi shot a fist in the air, grin wide under her hood. "Woho! Girl power!"

Tali arched a brow at the thief even as she stopped before the door. "Riiiight...lets just get in here before whoever is in there has a chance to..." She looked back to the door...and blinked. "This is a mechanical lock...who uses a _mechanical_ lock nowadays!"

"Those who have a sense of nostalgia..." Kasumi retorted, smirking as she came closer, eyeing the dirty grey door of blemished wood with _true_ amusement. "...or...you know...cheapskates thinking an odd location and some thugs will be enough protection for something they didn't think important enough for something better." She shrugged, crouching down before the rusty old cylinder, Tali doing the same as she eyed the lock with a dubious look on her face. "Let's see...wow...a wooden door, huh? Not every time you see that? Still, this should be easy, I will just have to-"

Then the door was enveloped in a blue haze...and ripped straight off its hinges and over the two crouching women before it slammed into a wall with a crash of splintering wood.

Both turned, staring at Miranda...who with a body still aglow with the residue of biotic power aimed her submachine gun into the new room...and frowned, voice cold. "No one's inside, a bad sign." Ignoring the others' stares she nodded towards the room. "Tali, see what you can do."

"Right." Tali rose, brushing a few splinters off her suit as she turned her attention to the room ahead.

It was small, nothing more then a booth for a swivel-chair since the rest of the space was taken up by a small desk for various papers...and dozens of computer screens stacked upon one another along the length of the small room, screens meant for the security cameras across the tower. Now nothing but static showed though, the lone computer console on the middle of the desk flashing amber with various warnings.

"Let's see..." Tali jumped into the chair swivelling it to face the console, fingers flicking over the console as the holographic interface checked the readings filtering forth. "...ah, interesting."

Miranda's voice was cold. "Kasumi, watch the door. Tali, specify."

_And here one had hoped saving your sister would make you less of a tight-ass_... "Seems someone has used an external feed to send a worm into the system..."

"A worm?"

"A virus." Tali explained, not taking her eyes off the console as her hands moved over it. "Self-replicating VI, meant to overload the system with an informational overload, basic cybernetic warfare, expensive for someone like our assassin I'd say. Though who knows how cheap things are on the black market?"

"I'm not _interested_ in his budget." Miranda snorted._ Nope, still a bosh'tet_. "Can you fix it?"

"_Please_, I'm a Quarian engineer, the _best_, according to your own organisation, I hack _Geth_ on a regular basis..." Tali smirked under her helmet. Her fingers flowed over the controls, shutting off systems, purging and bringing them back online, quickly closing in the VI in a small sub-routine before moving for the kill...

"That doesn't mean you can do _this_, now, _can_ you-"

"Done." Tali interrupted, her smirk turning into a grin at the slight huff escaping Miranda as the human leant over her chair. "Bringing cameras back online, rebooting systems...they're mine."

A pause.

And then Miranda's unamused voice. "You're enjoying this..."

"What's wrong with enjoying your job?" Kasumi interjected. "_I_ certainly do."

"Exactly." Tali agreed with a nod and a smile, watching as the screens around her flickered into action. "It increases efficiency, I thought _you'd_ like that, Miss Lawson?"

She couldn't stop herself jabbing at Miranda with those words...but the human merely sighed. "I suppose..."_ Damn, and I who almost __wanted__ an argument_. "...now, find anything? The assassin?"

"Cameras...show nothing." Tali frowned. "Huh, odd, it's an extensive network..."

"Not so odd, this is a professional." Miranda noted. "Where _aren't_ there cameras?"

"Maintenance, ducts, the areas still under heavy construction." Tali replied, her gaze drawn to one of the cameras where a small platoon of mercenaries were jogging down a corridor, weapons at the ready. _Oh no you don't_... A few moves over the controls...and doors on both sides of the corridor slammed shut and locked, sealing the troops in, much to their dismay if their kicking feet and rude gestures was any sign...Tali smirked at the sight. "I guess he's in there somewhere then, but it's a lot of ground to cover, and not all in one place either."

"Then we have to keep with Shepard's plan of heading for Thane's target." Miranda concluded, a frown in her tone. "Where is he?"

"Level forty-two, nearing the bridge to the other tower." Tali replied, taking control of the camera that had spotted the man and zoomed in.

The man had Jacob, Grunt, Garrus, Mordin and Zaeed at his back, the team with their weapons drawn and ready.

Though there was no need.

Around the group lay many Eclipse mercenaries, a carpet of yellow armour and dark blood...all save one, pressed against the glass wall of the room the group was in, Michael's hand gripping onto the man's breastplate, Michael's mouth moving as he spoke.

The mercenary was scared...but defiant, shaking his head as he spat at Michael, the phlegm striking the visor of Michael's helmet.

A hint of anger in Michael's stance...and then he relaxed, stepping back.

His pistol seemed to flow into his hand...and the mercenary cringed in fright.

Three shots...and the mercenary pressed his hands to his face, shaking even as the window behind him shattered.

A second later, Michael had the pistol lowered, his hand gripping onto the mercenary's breastplate once more...and pushed him out until he was leaning back over the sheer drop of the outside of the tower.

Tali swallowed on behalf of the mercenary, knowing just how scary Michael could be in those situations...and watched with rapt attention as the Spectre once more spoke, what had to be a question escaping his lips.

_This_ time the mercenary nodded, words flooding forth as he babbled out whatever Michael wanted to hear.

Finally the words petered out, the mercenary standing stiffly as Michael held him over the drop, waiting.

Michael cocked his head to the side, nodded...and pulled the man back onto safe ground before releasing him and gesturing towards the door at the other side of the room.

The mercenary spared a moment to stare at Michael in shock...and then ran for it.

The others looked after the running mercenary...and then Garrus looked back to Michael, arching his brow-plate, saying something.

Michael just shrugged, gesturing for them to move on.

_Choice_...it was such a simple philosophy, _too_ simple in Tali's mind...yet it was very much _him_...a part of who he _was_...had _always_ been...for he remained..._Michael_.

Tali found herself smiling, _warmth_ creeping into her chest, seeping into the _cracks_ she thought was all that was left within her soul...she _hated_ it...but she couldn't help it...

And she _loved_ it.

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_Thanks to Abydos Jackson for all the time she invests in me._


	35. Chapter 35

The door opened.

A second later Michael burst in, his team at his back, spreading out and guns panning the room...only to lower them as they stared around themselves in surprise.

They were in an office, one supposed to inspire awe and fear for any visitors. The short path before them opened into a wider chamber where the floor rose a few inches, making you feel shorter then those within waiting for you. The main room was more or less round in form, the smooth walls of polished black steel shimmered as it reflected the few white lamps within the room.

The desk dominating the room was raised up even further; the desk was large and black and polished to a mirror shine, ominous for whoever stood below and looked up towards Nassana when she sat on the large leather chair behind. A chair backlit by the lights shining through the glass wall behind...the lights of the city outside, or rather, _below_ the great tower

Yet _now_...the awe the room was supposed to inspire stemmed from another source.

There were five corpses before the group...and only a solitary living person.

Two Eclipse mercenaries lay right where the office widened, both face down on the ground as they lay with their heads facing the group. The two other mercenaries were in either corner of the window, both slumped up against it, as if they had just sat down for a rest.

The killing of them was in itself not so awe-inspiring...the fact that none of them had even _drawn_ their weapons, however...

The fifth corpse was that of the Asari, the woman lay on her back on top of the desk, her dark dress soaking up her purple blood, her arms crossed over her chest.

It was a long time since Michael had even thought about Nassana, but now that he saw her...he couldn't help but think she looked..._older_, far more so then a creature supposed to live for a thousand years had any right to look after only two years, at least.

Yet at the same time she looked...relaxed, as if death had eased a great weight from her shoulders.

Michael understood that all too well...

He pulled his gaze away from the woman...she was irrelevant, a loathsome annoyance two years ago and better dead...and focused on the more important thing before him.

Or rather..._person_.

Michael knew intergalactic etiquette said it was rude to stare, something humans were _infamously_ bad at, but he couldn't help but study the Drell carefully, having never seen a member of the species before.

The man was...shorter then expected. Not _Tali_, certainly, but short, and though he wasn't exactly slim there was a certain..._litheness_ about him, even while standing still there was the feeling he could just disappear if Michael blinked. The black coat he wore was open at the front, a thin vest underneath open enough to reveal green skin beneath, no armour...just casual wear. It spoke volumes of his abilities.

While he didn't have hair like humans or fringes like Asari or Turians, the Drell's head sported a few sets of symmetrical folds at the top of his head, a head covered in thumb-sized green scales that was his skin. Underneath his chin there were several reddish folds running down to his throat, almost looking like gills, despite the fact that the alien was supposed to descend from an arid planet. His thick lips were moving, muttering something underneath his breath, his large eyes closed as he bowed his head and held his hands together before the dead Asari before him.

It was a...peculiar creature.

Prayer had never been Michael's strong suit, not even when he had been religious, only a few special occasions warranted it. And to see spirituality from an _alien_...it was peculiar. Michael had never really considered the religions of other races, but here it was, being practised just before him.

_A waste of time_...

Michael sighed, looking away. "I'm going to assume you're Thane."

There was no answer, the Drell's face remaining lowered as his lips continued to move.

_Ah, dedicated to the imaginary thing, how quaint_. "I'm _also_ going to assume you can hear me." A slight frown creased the Drell's features at that, but Michael ignored it. "Now, I am Commander Shepard, and I've been looking for you."

A final mutter...and the Drell raised his head, looking back at Michael with his nearly completely black eyes, his voice was a low throaty sound, calm. "Shepard? The hero Spectre? The _dead_ hero? I suppose the rumours are true then..." He lowered his hands, his steps slow and measured as he moved around the table. "...you are back. Question is, what do you wish of me? My expertise is all I offer, and I don't offer it freely, and nowadays, not at all."

"Yeah." Zaeed growled at Michael's back. "Heard you took this job on for free, bad call for any mercenary."

"I'm an assassin, not a mercenary." The Drell retorted, surprisingly not sounding offended.

_And slick, didn't really answer why he was doing this_... "I need your help, Thane."

"As I said...I do not offer my services any longer." The assassin replied, standing before the desk and calmly looking over at Michael. If he was worried about the armed men at Michael's back he didn't show it. "But since you're Shepard, I must ask...what do you intend to fight?"

Michael offered a smirk at that. "What makes you think we're fighting _anything_...?"

For the first time there was something akin to humour appearing on the Drell's face, a twitch in the corner of his mouth. "I doubt you came back from the dead to pick flowers, Shepard..."

Behind him Garrus chuckled. "Depends on _who_ he picks them for..."

_Garrus_... Sighing, Michael desperately hoped Tali couldn't hear anything via the security cameras that seemed to be in every corner of the tower. Rubbing his temples, Michael forced himself to press the issue. "We're hitting the Collectors, they are abducting entire human colonies."

"Come on, Shepard." Jacob snorted. "An assassin wouldn't care."

"On the contrary." The Drell replied, cocking his head to the side. "I have heard of many of these attacks, hundreds of thousands of people, taken? And you intend to stop them?"

Silence, the Drell's brow furrowing as he looked down at the floor between them.

When he looked up his gaze was more..._intense_. "Attacking the Collectors would require passing through the Omega four relay; no ship has succeeded with that."

"Then we'll be the first." Michael replied, straightening, chin up. "I don't plan for this to be a one way trip, we'll go through it, come back, and the Collectors will be no more."

"Low survival odds do not concern me." Thane replied with a shrug, turning away and walking towards the window at the other side of the room. "But you say you will do this; save these people?" He came to a stop in front of the window, head bowed as he looked down at the flickering lights of the city below.

_Peculiar_... Michael wasn't about to dismiss the Drell's wish to help people because of his profession like Jacob...but there seemed to be something more to the strange behaviour of the assassin. "If not save them, then at least stop any more from being taken."

"Millions of lives in the balance..." It was but a mutter, the Drell's head remaining bowed as he thought it over. Then he raised his head, his voice firming. "I have made the galaxy darker for a long time now, Shepard." He turned, head held high. "I'll gladly help you make it brighter."

Silence.

Then Jacob sighed. "Great..."

"Good." Michael nodded, pleased that it had been so easy. _Well_..._save the fighting through massive numbers of mercenaries part...why can't I ever just walk up to someone and talk to them instead_! "In fact, you can help almost right away..." He moved closer to Thane offering his hand.

The assassin took it, giving Michael's hand a shake, and then released it, looking ever so slightly amused. "That was fast, what may I assist you with?"

"We're looking for another person to recruit in our fight with the Collectors." Michael replied with a nod. "An Asari Justicar by the name of Samara." Thane's brow rose. "I'm hoping that with your tracking skills and contacts you would be able to help us find her."

Thane's brow remained high as he spoke, a near chuckle in his voice. "Your first assignment for me is to locate and hire a woman who's code compels her to kill the likes of me..?"

Michael offered a chuckle. "Never said working with me would be easy."

"I can tell it won't be dull..." Thane replied, offering a short bow. "...very well, I shall find her."

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Tali found herself a bit puzzled.

The rest of the team had assembled before the docking chamber leading to the Normandy; waiting for the new new members to come with their things. Yet they hadn't had to wait for long before both new additions had arrived; that being so since neither had anything but their clothes and their weapons.

Even to a Quarian that was packing light.

So now all they were doing was waiting for Michael, who wished to talk to Liara one more time before he left. So the team stood there...curiously eyeing the two new additions.

She wasn't entirely sure she understood their motivation to join either...

The assassin's brief explanation, however flowery and poetic, was lacking in facts, no doubt a conscious choice of the man. He was very...mysterious.

Even now, seeing him before her, she wasn't sure where she had him. His clothes were that of a civilian, his manner...so calm and confident, a man in complete control of himself at all times. Yet there was something dark just beneath that, something that she just couldn't pin down or understand...

He was...dangerous.

The Justicar's explanation for joining was even more confusing. Tali herself had been off getting the newest omni-tools from the Illium market for the team...but the way Garrus had explained it the Asari had apparently joined because she didn't want to kill police officers while escaping custody...a custody she could have avoided from the start if she had but left. It had been something about a ship-name...Tali for one didn't understand why the Asari just hadn't left and tried to find the name by some other way and spared herself the hassle of getting into a fight...but considering what Garrus had told her it hadn't seemed to be an option for the Justicar.

_That code of hers seems_..._inflexible_.

Tali eyed the Asari with more interest now, curious...and not quite liking what she saw.

The woman was _beautiful_, and the red armour she wore fit _tighter_ then a glove, making her breasts nearly _spill_ out of her deep cleavage. _Because we need another beautiful woman on the team_... Tali sighed, feeling...inadequate.

Yet, however inviting the choice of clothing might be...there was something cold and discouraging in her stance. It was so..._empty_...as if there wasn't enough of a _person_ to fill the void within her flesh. Apparently, Justicars were Justicars for life, and Samara had been one for _hundreds_ of years...but it was odd to think that the profession just might have wiped away who was beneath the title...

The large blue eyes of the woman panned left and right, looking over the group facing her, calm under their scrutiny. It was a cold gaze, deprived of any heat or kindness, _judging_...Tali shivered.

Then the Asari glanced over to the Drell to her side, her tone haughty. "I must inform you that my code compels me to slay the wicked, which includes you, assassin."

_Oh, so we're off to a good start then_... Tali snuck a hand behind her back, loosening her shotgun.

"Yet you have not." Thane responded, arms behind his back, not even glancing at the Asari, the man calm made flesh.

"I have sworn an oath to Shepard, an oath I cannot break, his choices are my choices, such as bringing you aboard." There was no disapproval in the Justicar's voice, just calm facts.

It was fascinating that a high representative of Justice and a criminal Assassin could be so...alike.

Thane didn't respond at first, then nodded, once. "I'm glad."

The tiniest bit of confusion in Samara's stance...and then she relaxed. "However, once this task is completed I will be released from this oath."

Silence, the threat – or rather, given their calm demeanour, _information _–sinking in.

"I doubt that, one way or another, it will be an issue by then." Thane responded, not sounding the least bothered.

Silence.

And then the Asari bowed her head, once. "True."

Next to Tali, Garrus leant closer, his voice a whisper. "Friendly pair, aren't they?"

"Pair of arch-enemies, maybe." Tali snorted. "I doubt..."

_Michael_.

Her voice died as she caught sight of the man marching forth to stop next to the new members of the team. Tali felt nervous at the mere sight of him, knowing what she would have to do. No that it was dangerous, or even meant anything. _Well_..._no_, _it_ _means_ _nothing_... Yet...she felt nervous, despite it being nothing to worry about, yes, nothing at all...

"Right, I just got a call from the Normandy, so we're in a bit of a rush and introductions will have to be made on the ship, I'm afraid." Michael said, a hint of tension in his stance. "So everybody in." He grinned at them, but the tension didn't escape Tali's notice even as he waved at them to move. "Mush!"

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Michael glanced up from his reading, looking over at the aquarium in his cabin.

It was surprisingly soothing...

_No_.

With a grunt he returned to his reading, knowing it would probably do no good. There wasn't much information about the Collectors, and none on the interior of their ships! Nor had anyone ever really tested their capabilities in a space battle. But considering they worked for the Reapers...Michael was willing to assume the worst.

Which made the Illusive man's call so..._strange_. Michael had a hard time imagining a Turian patrol taking out, never mind crippling, a Collector cruiser. Yet that's what the call said...the Turians were destroyed, but their last logs showed the Collector vessel floating dead in space, giving no signs of life.

Yet strange or not Michael had to agree with the man, such an opportunity _couldn't_ be wasted, they _had_ to investigate and find out anything they could about the Collectors, _particularly_ how they travelled through the Omega four relay.

He didn't have to like it though...

_There's too many unknowns, too little information, I don't even know how many warriors they might have on the ship_...

So he read what sparse information there was, read it over and over again...knowing it would probably be of little use. But safety came before comfort...and Michael intended to keep everyone in one piece.

He owed them that.

Sighing, he returned to reading the information. Mordin had checked the exoskeleton of one of the fallen creatures on Horizon and it seemed it acted as a form of armour that was remarkable in its ability to survive weapon's fire, something the Salarian found peculiar since natural evolution shouldn't-

The door opened.

Grateful for a break, Michael looked up...and blinked, shocked at what he saw. His voice came out as a croak. "Tali...?" He cleared his throat. "I...I didn't expect you to come up here."

"I know." The Quarian replied, her hands nervously fiddling with one another before her as with a cocked head she looked back at him where he sat on his bed. She didn't quite enter the main room, staying at the top of the stairs. "Well, I didn't know, I suspected, assumed, I guess, considering...you know."

_Huh_?

"You're confused, of course you're confused, and you know I can see that plain as day. Not that I was looking...what I meant to say was that I had something to say, yes."

_Huh_!

"But I don't want you to take it the wrong way, or rather, what you would think as the right way, but _too_ right, not just a little right."

Michael blinked, then smiled. It was _nice_ to hear Tali like this, he didn't think it would ever happen again... "Tali, you're babbling."

"I know that!" The Quarian snapped, anger in her voice, then shook her head. "Don't you think I know that? I know when I'm rambling, because that's when I speak a lot and my mouth goes all dry with the talking and I don't seem able to stop myself. Which is _really_ annoying, but that's not what I'm here for and...stop looking so amused!" Another shake of her head, irritated. "I just wanted to say something and I don't want you to make too much of it."

"I'm..." Michael hesitated, a lump in his throat and worry in his belly as he suddenly feared what would happen. "...listening."

"It's just that...with when you helped Miranda and all..." Tali's hands closed around one another, halting the fiddling...only for her feet to nervously start rubbing against one another. "...it was very you. Well, I meant how you did it, not as in helping, a lot of people help others, not willing to risk their lives, true, but still..." A deep breath. "I mean that you did more than...you're still in control and step up to shield and...such..." The Quarian looked away, muttering something under her breath. "What I meant was...I wouldn't mind calling you Michael again...if that's okay?"

Silence.

Michael blinked and swallowed, the lump in his throat and the worry in his stomach evaporating, becoming replaced by..._joy_. His voice wavered a little. "I...would like that."

"_Good_...I...good." Tali nodded, forcing her legs apart and away from one another...and instantly her hands started to fiddle with one another again. "It doesn't really mean anything, I mean, it's just to make things easier, _communications_ and such, can't be rude and..." A loud breath of exasperation. "...and stop grinning!"

Michael blinked, hand coming up to brush his jaw. "Am I? Oh...didn't realise...sorry."

"You're _not_ sorry, I can see it!" The Quarian managed to detach her right hand to jab an accusing finger Michael's way.

The joy mixed with amusement...and Michael's grin grew wider. "Sorry."

"You're _not_...argh...I _told_ you, this doesn't mean _anything_, don't start thinking it does..." A sigh...Tali's shoulders slumping, voice filled with frustration. "...and you _are_..." Another sigh."..._great_. Stop that, I told you...I...it...nothing, okay?"

Michael managed to rein in his grin...only to flash her the smile she hated as he felt something akin to butterflies in his belly. "Sure."

"You're not...!" Tali's hand once more shot up to jab a finger at him...only for it to waver as she lowered her hand, it instantly starting to fiddle with the other as they came close. "I knew this was a bad idea...you can't think that...I'm not saying that..."

And Michael's smile endured, the joy forcing it to remain on his face until it started to hurt.

Tali tensed, looking as if she was trying to speak, hands closing into fists...

Only for her to whirl round and march away, her parting word a frustrated growl. "Men!"

Michael looked after her long after the door closed behind her, the smile unwilling to disappear.

Then he sighed, tossed aside his electronic reader, eased back onto the bed, hands behind his head...and just relished in the joy, a feeling he hadn't felt since before he died.

_Finally, good news_...

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_Thanks to Abydos Jackson for her caring._


	36. Chapter 36

"I don't remember it being that big."

Michael looked down at Joker in the pilot chair, shaking his head before looking back up at the Collector cruiser drifting through space just above him, then back down at the pilot and his quip.

Joker was shaking his head in wonder. "Do _you_ remember it being that big?"

"I remember suffocating after hauling a brittle-boned idiot into an escape shuttle." Michael replied, grinning at the sight of Joker shifting uncomfortably in his chair.

"Yeah...well...erm...sorry?"

"Just get me out _alive_ this time." Michael chuckled, unable to contain the good mood that had been bubbling out of him ever since Tali's visit. It was silly, it was stupid, hell, she was _right_ about it not really meaning anything. _But_ _still_..._nice to have a piece of her back_. "Any idea how the Turians took it out? Where are the hulls of their ships, anyway?"

Instantly, EDI's hologram appeared to their left, the AI's tone, as always, polite. "The remains of the Turian patrol _is_ present. Detecting organic matter and metal two miles away; easily mistaken for a dust-cloud." _Ouch_. "The Collector vessel, however, is showing no damage but a small hole in what you'd call its belly; it is possible, however unlikely, that the ship lost primary power due to a 'lucky' hit."

Michael smiled...and then shook his head with a jolt. _Dammit, __focus__ soldier, or people will __die_. With a force of will he pushed the thought of the Quarian aside. He had done such with a ticking nuke next to him, at the Citadel, on thousands of missions he had forced distractions aside to focus on what was important.

It was surprisingly difficult this time...

"Ah." Michael finally nodded. "Run a scan. Any life signs? Running systems?"

"The hull of the vessel, even with its shields down, is difficult to penetrate with my systems. I'm not detecting any life signs, and heat emissions suggest it's running on auxiliary power; life-support is down."

"Well...that's nice." Joker muttered, shooting EDI a suspicious look.

"A little _too_ nice." Michael replied, his distrust of the AI for the moment put to the side for his worry about the giant ship they were approaching. "I don't like this. We'll deploy in two teams, one heading for the damaged area, I want to know what we're dealing with. The other will head for the Collector cruiser's bridge. EDI, where is it?"

"Scanning...location has been transmitted to your shuttle."

"Good, then we'll-" Michael began to turn.

"Shepard."

Only to stop, looking at EDI's hologram with an irritated frown. "Yeees?"

"I have compared the signature of the vessel with known Collector vessels." EDI said, almost sounding...hesitant? "It's the same ship as on Horizon, _and_ the one that attacked the old Normandy two years ago."

"That..._can't _be coincidence." Michael's frown deepened, he was liking the mission less and less...and they had yet to even _deploy_. _Still, the Illusive man's right, we can't let this opportunity slide_. "But if the defence turrets on Horizon worked it might help explain the Turian patrol's success. " _Heh, I don't even believe that myself_... "Keep me updated about any new information you might garner. For now, I want the team to assemble in the Communication room for a quick debriefing, we have to move fast, before the Collectors arrive to salvage this ship."

EDI's annoyingly polite voice followed him as he moved. "Very well, Commander."

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So far it was going well, the team had split up after their deployment and begun to move towards their respective targets.

Command had been easy enough to assign. Garrus still refused to lead, so the spot of leading the second fire team towards the damaged section of the Collector ship went to Miranda. And since Jack and she detested one another Michael took the biotic with him...and therefore assigned Samara to aid Miranda.

Since he was the one commanding Grunt's respect, Michael had found himself forced to take the Krogan with him...and since both he and Grunt were tough front line soldiers he let Garrus and Zaeed go with Miranda to bolster the force's backbone. If nothing else Garrus would be a good second in command for Miranda. Miranda also got Kasum, since Michael wanted to personally see how well Thane fought...which also made Jacob happy since the Cerberus man could then keep an eye on the Drell.

Assigning the last two had been...more difficult. Mordin was a scientist and would do well on the bridge, but so would Tali...and while he wasn't sure either would be useful over by the damaged area _one_ should at least be sent, just in case. Michael _wanted_ Tali on his team...but feared the _why_, he could _not_ afford distractions. But if something went amiss and she was stuck with the other team...he didn't dare think about it. He couldn't let what happened two years ago happen again, to either of them.

In the end, Tali came with him while Mordin went with Miranda. Michael felt...uneasy about that, but knew he would have felt the same way if he had done it the other way around.

Currently such thoughts weren't paid much heed however, his eyes wide under his helmet as he looked around himself.

_This_..._is_ _a_ _ship_!

While he could accept there being giant rocks stuck to the outer hull of the Collector ship...the fact that the corridors were stone too was just..._confusing_. It was as if someone had taken a mountain, carved tunnels through it to make a giant ant-hive and then attached a skeleton of steel bulkheads, engines and weapons to it.

"I have a feeling Collectors don't care much for aesthetics." Tali dryly noted, making Michael nod in agreement.

"It's ugly, that's for sure." Jack grunted, the woman's shotgun drawn as she panned it left and right. "What's with all those orange lights in the ceiling? They look like...are those the pods they put the colonists in on Horizon!"

Michael frowned, looking up at one of the clusters. "Yes, it is...but EDI said those systems are offline...so those inside are probably dead."

"Great, so we're walking below pods filled with dead people?" Tali muttered, the Quarian looking...on edge.

Michael forced his gaze away from her and back to the tunnel ahead, aiming his Revenant rifle down the path despite the growing feeling that they had entered a ghost-ship.

Grunt chuckled. "Does that mean that if I shoot them there'll be _raining_ dead people over us?"

The question drew a bark of a laugh from Jack even as Thane politely spoke. "Please don't do that."

Sighing in exasperation Jacob moved up next to Michael, the man's voice tinged with worry. "I don't see any Collectors, living _or_ dead, where's the crew?"

"Yeah..." Michael agreed, moving his hand up to his helmet as he switched to the radio. "Miranda, do you see any Collector bodies?"

A hiss of static...then her voice came in clear. "I was about to ask you the same thing. Though it's curious...I've yet to see a _closed_ door..." Michael glanced back, seeing the long tunnel they had come from, several doorways standing open. _Huh_. "...maybe emergency closing of them failed and this small hole was all it took to cause a vacuum?"

"You mean...the Collectors were...sucked out?" Michael asked, smirking underneath his helmet, the idea of a horde of insects being sucked into space like that amusing.

Jack snorted. "Yeah, she _would_ know about sucking..."

This time Tali was the one laughing. Michael smiled, enjoying the sound...and almost forgot about listening as EDI spoke up. "While it is a viable theory, _if_ the failure with the doors is ship-wide, it does _not_ explain the lack of working systems within the ship. Even lacking a crew a ship not badly damaged should still be running those systems that were online at the time of the blast."

Michael nodded, he wasn't sure about EDI's motivation, if an AI _could_ have one...but he doubted it was lying. "Miranda, continue to move towards the damaged area, but I don't want you to lower your guard, this place is worrying me."

"Understood, Commander."

Turning back to the present, Michael gestured for the others to follow as he moved forward, rifle at the ready, finger itching on the trigger.

_I'd prefer a fight over this_...

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"Commander."

Michael flinched at the sound of Miranda's voice in his helmet and grimaced at his own foolishness. They had advanced deeper and deeper into the Collector ship, facing no opposition, just more empty corridors, dead pods and shadows that by now seemed to close in around the small group. Even Jack had stopped talking trash by now, she too feeling the oppressive silence bear down on them as they continued.

Michael was therefore almost relieved to hear the Cerberus woman's voice, anything to break the silence was appreciated. "Yes, Miranda?"

"We're at the impact site, we've located a single Collector corpse by it...Mordin?"

The Salarian's voice was tinged with excitement, which meant that he was speaking _faster_ then _usual_. "Shepard, corpse died in blast, too fast for it to self-destruct insides, have taken samples and let EDI analyse them." A sniff. "Genetic sequence _surprisingly_ small, lacking _any_ extra strands, _extreme_ genetic tampering, _cannot_ have happened naturally. Getting off track, genes show remarkable similarity to Prothean samples taken from ruins."

"Wait..." Michael blinked. "...what!"

"Collectors are genetically modified Prothean." Mordin sniffed, proud. "Quite the discovery. However, if the Collectors themselves are aware of this I'm unsure, their tampered genes makes me question them actually being sentient. Fascinating..."

"The Reapers...did this to them." Michael swallowed, the implication was...unpleasant. "They changed them into these slaves..."

Silence.

Then Jacob grunting. "And now they're taking humans..."

"Yeah...well, now we have yet _another_ reason to stop them." Michael shook the coldness from him with growl. "When they come we'll _fight_ the Reapers, we _won't_ help them."

He took a step forward...only for Miranda's voice to stop him short. "One more thing, Commander. This blast...it doesn't go deep, in fact it's just a small hole in the hull..." A moment of uncomfortable silence. "...the blast has bent the metal _outwards_, the explosion came from _inside_ the ship."

_Uh_ _oh_...

"Get your team back to the evac area and secure it, my team is moments away from the bridge, once we're done we'll join up with you and we'll all leave, and _quickly_." With that Michael gestured for the others, moving them forward in a jog.

Two turns later...and they found the Collector bridge.

It wasn't what Michael had expected.

There was no wind shield, the bridge being deep inside the cruiser. Instead the room was a circular chamber with a domed ceiling; its walls and centre covered in consoles still glowing with holographic menus. The door to it was open, as they had been the entire way, nor was there a single Collector there._ Do they __have__ Captains_? _Or_ _do_ _the_ _Reapers_ _control_ _them_ _all_...?

Still, that meant no opposition, and Michael was all too willing to take advantage now that he was eager to finish up and leave. _This place is dangerous_... He waved the others forward, letting the group filter into the room as they took positions by the doorway, weapons at the ready. "Tali, see what you can do."

"On it Shep-Michael." He grinned underneath his helmet at Tali's words and allowed himself to glance back from where he was guarding the door, seeing the Quarian hurry up to one of the central consoles, omni-tool already aglow as the went to work. "No safe-guards on it, but the language is strange, will take me a while to work it down to simple math." _Simple__ meaning stuff I cannot begin to comprehend_...Michael smirked.

EDI's voice interrupted his admiration. "If you would uplink me to their system I can cut down the time that it will take and assist in information gathering."

Tali visibly tensed at that, hissing under her breath.

Frowning in irritation, Michael shook his head...but he didn't want to stay a moment longer than necessary, and EDI wouldn't be free from her shackles on the Normandy because she had an external link, that _would_ be _temporary_. "Do it, EDI, but no funny business."

"Linking..." Tali growled...

...and EDI's hologram appeared on the console. "I am an _AI_, Shepard, I do not _do_ funny." A pause. "This is advanced code, but Tali has done half the work...done, I have partial access, uploading information to accessing omni-tool while gathering more information."

Silence.

Then Michael, unable to contain himself, snapped back. "_Well_? What do you know?"

"Still collating...please wait..." EDI muttered, her voice weakening as she focused her attention elsewhere. "...the Collectors use an advanced identify friend foe system to make their vessels able to travel through the Omega four relay...I'm...having _difficulty_ accessing it however..." A buzz filled her voice. "I have found the distress signal the Illusive man picked up, however."

"Wait...in _their_ data?" Jacob asked...and the group seemed to shrink where they stood, coldness clamping down on them.

_Right, time to go_...

"Yes." EDI stated, annoyingly calm. "The data was sent from _this_ vessel, the signal lacks the Turian's secondary encryption, however...it is not possible that the Illusive man thought this signal to be genuine."

"Treacherous Cerberus son of a bitch!" Jack shouted, the woman's body snapping round as she stomped a heavy boot into the ground. "I _knew_ that bastard would screw us over!"

"That's not relevant right now!" Michael snapped, feeling ready to yell like her as well, but knowing it would do no good. "What's important is that this is a trap! We move out! And we move out _now_!" A second later he was on his feet, grabbing Tali by the arm and yanking her back as the entire team rushed out of the room.

And then EDI's voice instantly called him via the radio. "The Collector ship's life support is coming back online; detecting several chambers opening...life signs detected all over the ship, heading towards your location."

_Shit_! Michael yanked harder at Tali, drawing a shout from her even as the group surged forth. "How many?"

"Impossible to determine, roughly a couple of thousand."

Miranda's voice over the radio was as cold as it was tense. "Wait, heading for Shepard's location? Not for mine? All of them?"

EDI paused, then spoke. "Yes."

_They want me_...

Miranda seemed to be thinking the same thing. "Commander, we're heading towards you, we'll meet you half-way and fight our way back together, I think that...hey! EDI, the door closed before us!"

Simultaneously, a door further ahead of Michael's team closed as well, the thump resounding through out the hall. _Oh_..._this_ _is_ _bad_... "We have the same situation here." He moved up, the others at his back as he looked for a console he knew wasn't there, having seen it on the other side. "Might need some help here." _Really_ _bad_...

"Give me a moment." EDI spoke, a tension in its voice. "There is someone else in the system. Collector vessel is powering up and wrestling back control of its security systems..._there_."

The door opened.

And the team started to run.

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_Thanks to Abydos Jackson for all her help._


	37. Chapter 37

The door slammed shut behind them.

Shooting a glance back, Michael's eyes narrowed in worry. It was _closer_ this time, the door nearly closing shut on Thane, the only thing saving the man being his swiftness as he leaped forth while reloading his smoking sniper rifle.

So far they had managed to evade the closing gauntlet of the Collector ambush well enough. The enemy were throwing husks and Collectors alike at the team, trying to slow them down as the massive ship slowly powered up. The ship itself was pushing EDI further and further out of its systems, making them fight against the clock before they would have to manually hack or destroy every door before them.

They wouldn't have time for that.

Gritting his teeth, Michael dropped on one knee, eyes moving over the tunnel ahead, a tunnel opening in a sheer drop to their right. "Grunt, up front! Thane, Collectors at two o'clock!" His rifle jerked in his hands...and two of the creatures flying towards the group on their membranous wings hissed as they fell in explosions of gore. Another fell as Thane's sniper rifle went off, only to be joined by a fourth as the assassin hurled it back with a flash of biotic energy.

EDI's voice resounded in Michael's helmet...and he _knew_ it was bad news. "I cannot hold the door ahead...hurry!"

"You heard the lady! _Move_! Grunt, _charge_! Jack, Jacob, Tali, wedge on him!"

Ahead, the orders were followed...and Michael ran while watching Grunt lower his head and roar out a challenge...instantly followed by his thunderous footsteps throwing up clouds of dust as the heavy Krogan threw himself forward...straight into the dozen Husks coming at him.

Four of the husks exploded into black and blue pieces with the impact, a fifth fell and had its head crushed under a heavy foot while the rest were thrown off balance, stumbling to the side...only for them to come apart as three shotguns pumped shot after shot into them as the wedge followed in the wake of the Krogan...right through the doorway.

"Incoming!" Jacob shouted, as the charging group stumbled to a halt, all four forming a line and shooting at something to the right that Michael couldn't see.

"Thane, with me!" The two men rushed forth, leapt...

...and the door suddenly slammed shut.

Michael felt the breeze of the door closing behind him as he rolled to his feet and turned...just in time to see five Husks fly up in the air in an explosion of biotic power as Jack shouted out in rage, her body ablaze with blue power.

Next to him, Thane too began to glow...and the five flying creatures were hurled away before crashing into the ground in an explosion of dust, and stones.

There were more Collectors ahead though. Just behind a doorway a couple of dozen feet away there were five of the creatures. One each was hugging the cover offered by the sides of the doorway, two more a low wall in the middle of the small tunnel behind the doorway, while the fifth was almost hidden to the left of the tunnel, working on the console there...

_The console to the door_!

"Cover me!" Michael was barely aware that he shouted the order as he started to run, sending a burst of shots that harmlessly arched over the heads of his foes before tossing the weapon aside in favour of rushing forth.

_Got_ _to_..._stop_ _it_!

EDI shouted a warning he couldn't quite hear with the thumping of his heart...and the Collector on the far right jerked as Thane's shot caught it in the head. The rest of the team laying down suppressive fire as Michael rushed forth.

The twin doors moved to close...only to jerk to a stop halfway...and Michael cried out in effort as he pumped his legs the last few feet.

Someone was shouting after him, wanting him to stop...but Michael couldn't hear it over the sound of the Collectors ahead rising up to pour shots into him...he threw himself forward, through the doors...and silencing the shouts of the rest of the team as the door slammed shut behind him.

Michael rolled with his fall and came up on one knee, right hand drawing his pistol and swinging it about.

The two Collectors ahead were still firing...and with a flash, Michael's shield died as he snapped off two shots, instantly felling the two creatures even as his left hand shot up, grabbing the butt of the rifle the Collector on his left had just swung at him.

_Hurry_!

Jerking to his feet, he pushed the Collector back...and slammed the barrel of his gun into its gut and squeezed the trigger.

_Hurry_!

The explosion of gore paintring the wall went ignored as Michael swung the weapon back, tracking the last Collector that by now had drawn its weapon and turned away from the console...

A single shot...and it fell backwards, bouncing off the console and dropping onto the floor in a twitching pile.

Swiftly moving to reload, Michael drew quick breaths of air as he looked for more threats, but found none.

The room was small, one door having slammed shut behind him, while another had also slammed shut no more than a dozen feet ahead. The walls weren't really walls either, but rather multi-tiered platforms that resembled the stairs for some giant, both reaching up into a great open space where the ceiling was high above...

_Another way_? _No, we don't have time to find alternative routes, have to keep going_..._I __really__ hope I remember Tali's lessons in hacking_. He moved forth, kicking the dead collector aside and leant over the console. _How_ _the_ _hell_..._I don't understand what it's saying_! Growling to hold back the panic, Michael tapped his omni-tool into it, trying to find some way to backtrack what the Collector had done...

Only to crash into the console as a heavy impact struck his back.

Grunting, he whirled about, stance wide to protect the console from any stray shot as he drew a bead on the Collector suddenly flying down towards him from the top of the 'stairs'. It fired again, the shot leaving a hissing crater in his chest...and Michael's pistol jerked, spraying its yellow blood over the ground below as its abdomen opened up.

_Damn, I have to hurry before_-

"_Shepard_."

His eyes widened.

They came for him, over the stairs ahead, they came.

A dozen Collectors, flying up...carrying something that remained obscured behind their wings...

Along with the burning Collector, a living conduit of the Reapers, flying right at him like a speeding bullet.

_No,_ _I_ _refuse_. Michael growled, throwing his pistol aside, knowing he wouldn't be able to penetrate its biotic barrier. Instead he closed his hands into fists, leapt forward...and up towards his foe. _I_ _refuse_!

With a crash, they smashed into one another...and Michael found all the air knocked out of him as he was slammed into the ground, the burning monstrosity atop him, clawed hands gripping onto his shoulders, a knee wedged deep into his gut as it looked down at him with its hateful eyes. "_I am Harbinger, you are vermin_."

"Funny..." Michael grunted, forcing a bit of air into his lungs as he pushed his arms up, his left gripping at its head as his right pulled back into a fist. "...coming from a bug!" He swung, crashing the fist into the Collector's head in an explosion of burning flakes.

The creature batted the hands aside, its own moving down to press into Michaels chest, the claws becoming _warmer_... "_Resistance is useless, Shepard_."

"Tell that to Sovereign!" Michael managed, his breathing a wheeze as he gripped the creature by the wrists, pulling...only to find himself unable to pry them off as the claws dug into his armour, armour hissing with the heat. "I won't...!"

_Pain_!

Michael jerked where he lay, back arching as his mouth opened in a wordless scream as the searing heat tore into his chest, burning armour and flesh alike.

Gasping he looked up, blinking away the stars before his vision as he watched the creature step off him, its claws still smoking with the attack. "_You cannot understand, Shepard, you are insignificant_."

"A lot..." Michael coughed, hands coming up to his chest...only to jerk away with a wince of pain. "...of trouble for something..." Another cough. "...insignificant."

"_I am Harbinger, the Harbinger of your perfection_." The creature gestured at something...and two Collectors came up and gripped Michael's arms, hoisting him to his feet. "_You will know pain, Shepard, and through it, you will become something great_."

Shaking his lowered head Michael gasped, struggling to control the waves of pain rolling off of him. _If I can just control the pain I can fight, or get the door open_..._yeah_ _right_. He nearly snorted at himself, knowing himself to be a fool...and looked up at the creature. "Harbinger, huh? I will enjoy tearing you apart."

The Reaper cocked its head at him, standing close as its hateful gaze bore into him. "_Your change will be made all the more painful for your resistance_." It stepped to the side, gesturing for what was behind it...

Ten Collectors...carrying forth an open pod.

"_You will no longer resist us_."

Michael's eyes widened...and then he jerked backwards, trying to free himself...only for him to be jerked back by the Collectors holding him. "If you think I'm going to help you, you're delusional!"

"_Your opinion is irrelevant_." Harbinger replied, tone as monotone and dark as ever, _arrogant_...and currently..._rightly_ so. "_We will make use of your flesh, you will know pain, and_ _then_..._gratitude_."

Michael swallowed. He didn't know what was worse, that Harbinger actually _believed_ that...or the possibility that it was _right_. "You're insane!"

"_We are the sentient life of the universe, we judge what is sane_."

A sudden laugh exploded from Michael as he shook his head and looked away, shoulders slumping in defeat. "Great, I'm talking to a preacher..."

"_Enough_." Harbinger gestured for the two Collectors on Michael's side, who started to drag him towards the waiting pod, heedless of his weak struggling.

Gritting his teeth, Michael slumped in their grip, knowing it was no use. Still, he found himself looking up at Harbinger, eyes narrowed. "We won't bow."

The creature took a slow step forward, looking down at him, voice full of scorn. "_They __never__ do_."

Silence.

The two glared at one another.

And then the Collector gripping Michael's right arm fell with a death-rattle, the crack of a firing sniper rifle following a moment later.

Harbinger's head jerked up, looking at something behind Michael...who with a grunt, forced himself to move, to swing counter-clockwise...smashing his foot into the chest of the burning creature; and forcing it a step back.

Another crack, and the Collector gripping Michael's left arm fell...even as a storm of shots poured down around him, thumping into the remaining Collectors, felling them before they could even raise their weapons.

Staggering to the right, Michael shook his head in wonder as he found Miranda deftly landing on her feet next to him, body aglow with biotic energy...

A thump, coldness...and the biotic barrier of Harbinger's puppet exploded in a flash, sending the creature tumbling onto its back with a hiss.

Miranda's face twisted into a snarl as she aimed her pistol down at the creature. "But _we_ will succeed."

One shot, two shots, three shots...and the creature's head cracked, the burning of its flesh flickering out as with a final hiss it turned to ash.

Silence.

And then Michael turned, looking at the group coming down from the 'stairs' with relief as Miranda explained. "The doors closed so we took an alternate route, looks like we were just in time."

Jumping down next to them, Garrus chuckled at Michael as Mordin turned to work the console. The Turian shook his head at Michael. "What's with you and trouble? You look like shit, by the way."

"Thanks." Michael grinned, a grin turning into a grimace as he rubbed his chest, the armour there feeling soft and puckered, partly burnt into his skin too, no doubt. "But it's just a flesh wound."

"Bravado." Mordin snorted. "Typical soldier, not helping, need to get you to medical bay when..._if_ we get out."

"_When_ it is." Michael replied, forcing a smile and a shrug, despite the pain it caused. "How's the door."

"EDI's back in system, partially at least, doors...opening." Mordin's announcement mixed with the sound of the doors on both sides sliding open...and Michael's team bursting in with their weapons drawn.

"_There_ you are!" Michael forced the grin to remain as he turned to look at the others. "You have to keep up, slow pokes!" His grin faded a bit as he saw Tali stop dead in her tracks, her silver eyes wide under her mask as she stared at him, not only seeing the wound, but no doubt the pain he was trying to conceal as well. "I...we have to hurry!" Snapping out the words he whirled about...and ignored the way he swayed with the sudden movement as he nodded towards the other door. "More will come soon, so let's go!"

"Your gun." Thane responded, the assassin handing Michael's his assault rifle with a concerned look on his face.

"Oh...right..." Michael hoisted the weapon up...and ignored Tali's accusing gaze as he started to jog forward. "Now _move_!"

He wasn't sure what he was running away from.

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_Thanks to Abydos Jackson for her dedicated work._


	38. Chapter 38

They were so _close_...

Michael ducked under a fusillade of enemy fire.

Yet so far away...

Rolling to sit with his back against the low wall slowly disintegrating under the concentrated enemy fire, Michael tried to take stock of the situation...and he didn't like what he saw one bit.

The group had managed to fight their way towards the evacuation point for a good while, avoiding larger groups with either deception, explosives or by EDI managing to close a vital door or temporarily open another. It had gone surprisingly well...despite a few hiccups along the way that had left most with new dents in their armour and bruises on their flesh.

Michael couldn't have asked for a better progress.

_Until now, that is_.

Before him, the rear of the combined teams were being guarded by Garrus, Thane, Zaeed, Samara and Mordin, the group holding back a literal _horde_ of skittering Collectors scrambling to get in through the door EDI had only managed to halfway close. The defenders were holding them at bay admirably though, concentrated sniper fire, grenades, biotic attacks and crossfire tearing apart _anything_ that tried to enter the small opening, no matter how much covering fire the Collectors tried to put up.

Not that it stopped the creatures, in fact it only seemed to agitate them into throwing themselves into the fray with a frenzy, determined to push through, even if it had to be over a carpet of their losses when the defenders ran out of ammunition.

To Michael's left, Miranda crouched, moved up to fire a round, and then ducked down, frowning in worry. Her voice nearly lost in the echo of a blast. "We have to push forward! It's only a little more then a dozen feet!"

Michael grimaced. "I'm well aware!" He dared another glance over his cover.

Ahead, the ground sloped ever so slightly upwards, up to a solid low wall, behind which a full three dozen Collectors had taken up position, covering the exit. He could _see_ it! Right behind the creatures he could see _space_! He knew that the shuttle was ready to land there on a moments notice, to bring the team right into the nearby Normandy and the impatiently waiting Joker...

Yet the way up, however short, was a death trap. The slope upwards would slow any attack. There was no cover between the pinned down team and the Collector defenders...and the creatures were, judging by how prudently they stayed in cover, well aware that they only had to keep the team down for a bit longer until the Collector cruiser became fully online. When that happened, the Normandy would either manage to escape or be destroyed...but either way the team would be stranded, swarmed and slaughtered; those that weren't human, that is...

Michael _knew_ there was no choice but a head on charge...but how would they be able to do that without being swarmed by the Collectors on their back? _And how will we manage to get to the top of the hill with such heavy fire coming our way_? _Not to mention_..._who should I set to be at the front at the charge_?

_Me_..._Jacob_ _and_ _Grunt_..._Jack_ _could_ _work_..._Kasumi_ _to_ _sneak_ _forward_ _and_ _perhaps_ _distract_ _them_...

Michael swallowed, it didn't feel like drawing up a list for people to lead the charge, it was more like drawing up an obituary. He could handle going into death, it held no fear over him, but to send _others_ into it like that, for nothing but a little information, because of a _betrayal_...it didn't feel right, it _wasn't_ right...

Michael had _known_ the mission seemed suspicious, he had _known_ the Illusive man viewed them as nothing but pawns, he had _known_ the man had no problem selling them out, he had known it _all_...yet he had pushed forth.

_Because I hated the Reapers, because I was impatient, because I was willing to do __anything__ to beat them_..._well_..._I guess that means I have to own up to it_.

A sigh...and then he slammed his fist into the dirt, gritting his teeth.

_Dammit_!

He raised the Revenant rifle in his lap, sliding in a new heat sink into it as he drew a deep breath.

_She's going to hate me for this_...

He turned his head, finding Tali pressed up against the wall next to him...and something squeezed his heart with the realisation of what he was about to do._ It's not fair to her_...

Sensing his scrutiny, the woman glanced over at him...and went still, lowering her still smoking shotgun as she stared at him...and then silently shook her head, unable to speak.

_Good_..._no_ _words_ _are_ _needed_. Michael lowered his head. _I'm_ _sorry_.

Unwilling to draw it out any further, he let the air out. "Kasumi! I want you to-!"

"Commander!" Joker's voice suddenly cut into Michael's helmet, making him grimace in irritation. "We have..."

"I _know_! The Collector ship is almost online and we have to go! I'm _working_ on it!" Michael snapped, looking away as he felt Tali's gaze drill into him.

"Not that!" Joker shouted, sounding even more panicked than he had a couple of minutes ago when he'd shouted his previous warning. "We have a new contact! Geth frigate, inbound!"

Michael blinked, then rolled his eyes. "Well of course, why _wouldn't_ we get _more_ crap to deal with? Can you keep it at bay?"

"The Collector cruiser is between us, but the Geth ship is heading this way at full throttle and is already within range, hell, it's already targeting..." A pause. "...the _Collector_ ship!"

Michael blinked. "Come again?"

"Mr Moreau is correct, the Geth frigate is targeting the Collector vessel..." EDI spoke through the radio, even the _AI_ sounding puzzled. "...detecting multiple missiles. I'd suggest you brace for impact."

_That's it_!

"Everyone!" Michael looked up as he shouted the word. "The ship is going to get a good shake in a moment! I want you all to hold on and then make a break for it!" He turned back to the radio, knowing the others would have heard the order without needing the confirmation. "I want the shuttle to move towards us..._now_!"

For a few seconds there was nothing but the continuing fire fight...

And then the ship shook, dust pouring from the ceiling as the ground bucked and heave. The crash of something breaking apart nearly drove out EDI's voice. "Full hit, but no significant damage, second salvo is targeting enemy engines."

Michael didn't care, he was already leaping over his cover, shouting. "Forward! Now! Hit them _now_!"

A grenade sailed over his head, exploding just short of the Collectors ahead with a burst of fire...Collectors stumbling backwards and out of the cover they had been using.

A literal barrage of biotic projectiles flew forth, smashing into the creatures and sending a full dozen flying backwards...right into space, two of them bouncing off the hull of the shuttle as the ship came in for a landing. The rest were already moving to get into cover once more...and Michael nearly flew forward as he swung his rifle left and right, letting the indiscriminate spray of shots tear into walls, space and carapace alike, making several of the creatures keel over in death.

The rest weren't far behind...and the distance closed..._fast_...

A moment later, the group was over the wall, rifles, shotguns and pistols pouring shots into the Collectors at point blank range...and reducing them to nothing but quivering corpses covered in their yellow blood.

"Everybody in!" Ahead, the door to the shuttle opened...and none was late to obey the command as they leapt into their escape, the door nearly clamping shut on Michael's foot as he was the last one in.

With a shudder, the shuttle began to move, the power of it telling Michael the pilot was going in for a full throttle landing...which wasn't the least surprising. Gripping onto a pipe in the ceiling Michael slid his rifle back into place and moved his hand up to his helmet, watching the others sit down to tend to their scrapes and injuries, happy to note there wasn't anything serious that needed tending to. "Joker, we're coming in, get us to the relay, _now_."

"Already heading that way, Commander!" Joker called out, his words almost lost in the racket of the shuttle half-landing, half-crashing into the Normandy docking bay. "Sir, the Geth cruiser is _also_ going for the relay! Orders!"

"What do you think!" Michael snapped, stepping out of the shuttle as the others followed with sighs and groans of relief. _Not out of the woods yet_... "Shoot it!"

"I would not recommend that, Commander." EDI spoke, making Michael come to a confused stop.

"Why the hell not!"

"Doing so would require turning to bring our guns to bear, or at least slowing down, and the Collector vessel is already turning to pursue, weapons online." The AI responded, eerily calm.

Silence.

Then Michael grimaced. "Fine, head for the relay, full thrust, once out of the jump I want stealth systems activated and weapons tracking that thing."

EDI didn't sound pleased. "Sir, activating such systems just after a jump goes against safety-" Her voice shorted out.

And Joker chuckled. "Love that mute, safety is for suckers, EDI, we're on it!"

_Good_.

Michael turned, nodding to himself, happy to know they were out of the fire, they were still getting burnt over it...but at least they weren't _bathing_ in it.

_Tali_.

Suddenly frozen to the spot Michael found himself staring down at Quarian, the woman mere inches from him as her silver eyes narrowed in anger. _Oh_...

Her voice was but a _hiss_. "I'm going to _kill_ you..."

"Erm..." Michael rubbed the back of his head awkwardly._ Is it the wound_? _The whole 'I'm going to sacrifice myself thing'_..._it's that, isn't it_? "Sorry...but...heh..." He forced a smile. "...wouldn't be me if I didn't do stupidly heroic stuff, right?"

"_Kill_..._you_..." Came the reply, the woman raising a hand and jabbing a finger in Michael's face.

"Hey..." Michael raised his hands above his hands in surrender. "...we're okay, aren't we?"

"Except for the _Commander_..." Was the growled reply...and the finger moved down to his chest...and jabbed forth.

"Ouch!" Michael jumped back, hands coming down to protect himself. "Hey! That's tender!"

"Damn right it's tender!" The Quarian snapped, advancing, her voice shaking. "You...idiot..._bosh'tet_!"

"Hey, it'll be okay." Michael lowered his hands, smile warm as he relaxed. "It's not as bad as it looks, I'll be okay."

"I..." Tali took a step forward, her accusing finger once more going for Michael's face...only to stop. "...d-don't care...t-that much." She took a step backwards, looking away, crossing her arms over her chest. "It's just stupid, you're the Commander, dammit." The words rang hollow...and Michael smiled.

"Suuure you don't..." Garrus grunted, the Turian walking by without glancing at either of them as he rolled his eyes. "...now if you two are done with your little spat I think Michael's needed on the bridge..."

"Hey!" Tali snapped, furiously shaking her head. "This is _not_ a _spat_!"

Garrus chuckled. "Suuure..."

"Come back here, you!" Was the Quarian's reply, the woman jogging after Garrus, or rather, _away_ from Michael.

He smiled after her...only to find the smile die as Miranda walked by, the woman looking equally concerned and disapproving as she glanced at Michael.

_Right, work, I have work to do, on it_..._freaking_ _scary_ _woman_...

And Michael began to move towards the elevator.

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_Thanks to Abydos Jackson._


	39. Chapter 39

"Stealth systems online, running scans and powering up weapons."

_Joker sounds __tense__, I don't __like__ it when he sounds tense_. Gripping onto the top of the pilot's seat Michael winced while Chakwas, oblivious to the tension in the cockpit dabbed a mixture of painkillers and medi-gel into Michael's wound, the odd snip of her surgical scissors removing pieces of melted armour that lay in the way. "Relax, Joker, you've shot down thousands of these things."

"Thousands? Not even _I_ would inflate my kill-streak that much." Joker snorted. "But that thing acted oddly, I don't like surprises."

"As long as you destroy it, there won't be a problem." Tali, who since having had a brief fight with Garrus had _refused_ to leave Michael's side, muttered, gaze darting towards Michael...which he forced himself to ignore.

"Destroy it?" Miranda queried, shaking her head. "It's alone and soon at our mercy, we should cripple it, Cerberus would gladly have working Geth technology to study."

"I bet." Tali snorted. "Trust the _Quarian_ on this, destroy it."

"I'm with Tali on this one." Jacob muttered, the man frowning. "Those things are abominations."

A sigh escaped Joker, the pilot turning to glare at the group behind him, gesturing out into space. "Would you guys _shut_ _up_! We haven't even _found_...!"

"Geth ship located." EDI interrupted, making the pilot roll his eyes in frustration...which in turn drew a chuckle from Michael. "Forty kilometres ahead, drift nominal, engines offline, shields offline, weapons offline."

"What?" Miranda was the first to say it, making Michael's mouth click shut. "Why would it do that?"

Michael smirked. "Maybe it's trying to repeat the Collectors' trick? AI aren't exactly original."

"_That_, was rude." EDI commented...and Joker laughed.

Still chuckling, the pilot moved his hands to the controls. "Yeah, well, get used to it." He moved his hands over the controls. "Advancing, lining up mass accelerator guns, no need to waste missiles, right?"

EDI's hologram turned to look at Joker. "Considering who my helmsman is, I _am_ used to it."

Silence.

Everyone stared at the hologram, baffled.

"_That_, was a joke." EDI concluded...only for the hologram to glow brighter. "Alert, energy signature within Geth ship, it is...broadcasting."

"Broadcasting?" Michael asked, blinking. _What the hell is going on_! "Broadcasting what?"

"The intergalactic code for unconditional surrender."

Michael and Tali spoke as one. "_What_!" Turning his head, Michael stared at Tali...who stared right back at him. "Tali...has _any_ Geth, _ever_, in Quarian history, surrendered!"

She shook her head. "No...I..._no_, they _always_ fight to the last." A pause, then a more empathic shake of her head. "It's a trap, it _has_ to be, shoot it down."

"Hmmm...you're probably right." Michael nodded, turning back to Joker. "Target the ship, I want-"

"Reading new energy signatures in the vessel." EDI interrupted, sounding puzzled. "It is overloading local systems. Weapons, destroyed. Engines, destroyed. Shields, destroyed. All circuitry is being burnt out... Mass effect core...jettisoned and destroyed." It paused. "The Geth ship is now a burnt out hull."

"So much for salvage..." Miranda muttered, tone accusing...and Michael rolled his eyes. _Sure, blame me, it's __my__ fault the Geth are acting like they do_. "Anything else?"

"Visual scans are picking up movement on the hull of the vessel, cannot get a clear picture from this distance." EDI dutifully replied.

Michael hesitated, feeling Tali's gaze burn into him...but he was now curious, and considering what had just happened...if there was a trap it sure had to be a convoluted one to make a husk of a ship a danger. "Joker...bring us closer so we can have a look, I want weapons trained on that ship, keep the stealth system running."

"On it."

While Michael couldn't feel the acceleration of the ship, or see it...he knew Joker was letting the ship surge forth...and in mere moments he could see the dark silhouette of the Geth ship ahead.

"EDI?"

"Please wait, focusing cameras...target acquired, showing hologram." EDI's avatar disappeared...replaced by a somewhat unfocused picture of a lone Geth trooper standing atop what had to be the hull of the Geth ship. Even as they watched, the machine's head turned, looking up at them...and raised its hands over its head.

Miranda's voice was a hushed mutter. "Fascinating..."

Michael shook his head, unable to fully take it in. _A Geth_..._surrendering_... "I..." _What the hell am I supposed to do_! "...erm...suggestions?"

"It _has_ to be a trap, shoot it." Tali half-stated, half-growled.

"That doesn't make sense." Miranda retorted. "If it intended to attack us, why didn't it do so over by the Collector cruiser? Why destroy its own ship? If it's a trap it's a rather complex and inefficient one, that lone Geth doesn't even have a gun."

"There are many ways to attack someone." Tali snorted. "Maybe it intends to come aboard and hack EDI and take us hostage? Maybe its simply here to sow dissent? They fought alongside _Saren_! They can't be trusted, destroy it."

"EDI's firewalls are more then capable of handling a lone Geth." Miranda turned to face the Quarian, shaking her head. "And sowing dissent? You're grasping at straws here, your distrust isn't enough of a reason to refuse an opportunity like this."

"_Opportunity_!" Tali snapped, turning towards the Cerberus woman. "That's what everything is to you people, isn't it! But you have _no_ idea what you're dealing with here! These creatures killed _billions_! They nearly opened the Citadel for the Reapers and annihilated all sentient life in the _galaxy_! And you want to bring one _aboard_!"

"It is _one_ Geth, unarmed and _surrendering_, I hardly think that's a threat." Miranda snorted.

"Oh _sure_, now the _Cerberus_ woman is arguing about respecting _surrenders_, don't make me laugh." Tali shook her head. "You think you can just dissect it and experiment on it? Experimenting on the Geth is what nearly _annihilated_ my people! I won't be party to that, no matter how much your people might deserve it."

"You are _not_ in Command here, _Quarian_." Miranda snarled, taking a step forward...and Tali did the same, glaring up at the human. "And your opinion is _noted_."

"Why you _stupid_...!"

"Enough!" Michael snapped, tired of their exchange as he turned towards the two antagonists. "Tali is _not_ in Command here, nor are _you_, Miranda." He turned back towards the wind shield, trying to ignore Tali's stare as the next words came out of him. "_I_ am...and I'm curious about this..._thing_." He drew a deep breath, frowning at the hull drifting in space before him. "We'll bring it over and question its behaviour, and unless I change my mind, we will then destroy it and space it."

"Commander!" Tali and Miranda both exclaimed, neither happy with the decision.

_At least Jacob is nodding_... Michael shook his head, turning back to them. "That's my decision, now let's prepare a welcome that'll leave no room for treachery..."

Behind him, Joker sighed. "I have a bad feeling about this..."

And Michael groaned, palm hitting his face."You _had_ to say it, didn't you?"

Joker's only reply was a snicker.

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8

It was a group on edge that waited down in the cargo hold. All eyes following the shuttle as it slowly moved to touch down on the floor.

Michael had managed to change into a new breastplate, much to Chakwas chagrin as she wanted him to ease pressure _off_ the wound...but it couldn't be helped. While he kept his weapons folded on his back and hip, knowing the Geth to be unarmed, he let one hand rest on his pistol, ready to draw it if necessary.

He glanced to the right.

Just next to him, Miranda, then Jacob, stood. The Cerberus woman had her pistol drawn but held low, the man had his shotgun drawn...tracking the shuttle door. While Jacob's eyes were narrowed in suspicion, there was a fire in Miranda's, the woman clearly interested in the impending exchange. _No doubt she'll take notes for the Illusive man_... Michael held back a growl at the name that wasn't a name, the anger of what had happened lingering in his stomach like a bad wine.

Even further to the right Mordin stood, Michael hadn't asked him to join, but apparently the scientist's curiosity was too great and he had arrived as silently as he always did, eyeing the shuttle with interest.

Michael glanced to the left.

The intention of the two standing there was clear as day.

Tali stood close to him, protective, her shotgun drawn, her stance tense, her entire _being_ ready to charge forth at the _slightest_ provocation.

Garrus had his Vindicator drawn as well. As with Mordin, the Turian hadn't been called to join...but the _moment_ he had heard of what was going down he had torn himself from his conversation with Kelly – which had mostly consisted of her fussing over the damage to his armour and what could have happened – to join up. The Turian was frowning in worry, eyes narrowed at the shuttle.

With a thump, the Kodiak shuttle landed on the floor, engines hissing as they died down.

"Now remember, no shooting it unless it makes a _hostile_ move." Michael looked at those with their weapons drawn, shaking his head. "Got it?" Jacob, Miranda and Garrus all nodded. "_Got_ it?" He repeated...and managed to draw a reluctant nod out of Tali.

Michael's gaze lingered on her, watching her eyes focus on the door, ready to fight...wondering what thoughts were running through her mind. _Probably violent ones_..._hopefully__ mostly directed against the Geth and not me_. The thought drew a smile from him.

Then the door moved to open...and Michael's head snapped round in time to see the machine standing in the doorway, its hands still raised over its head in surrender.

It looked just like any other Geth trooper Michael had fought, _nearly_. Behind its back a thick antenna shot up like a blade._ Some form of scout_? Its head looked more advanced, the plates around its lone eye shifting, almost as expressive, as it regarded the group before it. _Diplomat_? _Do the Geth know what that is_? It was painted a midnight blue, the arms and back of its armoured legs sporting the grey 'muscles' the Quarians had developed for them so long ago, several grey tubes protruded from the grey matter and coiled round to disappear into the dark armour of it, just like any Geth.

Yet it had clearly survived something most Geth wouldn't. A great hole had been blown through the right side of its chest, revealing glowing tubes beneath, though much of it was now being covered by a somewhat crudely welded on piece of armour, a scorched-looking N7 breastplate...

_Wait, N7_? _It's not mine, is it_? _Why would it have that_? _Where would it_...

Burning.

No air.

Falling.

Dying...

_No_! Michael blinked...and looked up from the peculiar piece of armour, unwilling to pay it any heed. _I_..._later_..._yes_..._other_ _things_ _are_ _important_ _right_ _now_, _better_ _focus_ _on_ _that_. He looked up at the machine as it slowly stepped down from the shuttle...its eye moving left and right to track the ones ready to shoot it...

It was tall, over six feet tall. The Geth had always been that tall according to Tali, since they were supposed to be the workforce of the Quarians...yet despite having destroyed so many of them Michael hadn't really thought much about it. _Then again, whenever I was this close to one I was usually breaking it apart in close combat_..._never had time to think about that stuff much_.

"That's close enough." Tali growled...and the machine instantly came to a halt, hands remaining raised...as it slowly sank to its knees.

_Huh_...

Michael stared in wonder, never having thought he'd see such a sight. "Well...at least it understands us." Michael finally noted, glancing at Tali. "Sooo...how do you talk to these things?"

The Quarian's head snapped round, eyes narrowing at him in irritation, a scathing reply no doubt on her lips...only to be interrupted by the _Geth_, its voice synthetic with a strange tremble in it, a tremble almost resembling the slight warble in Tali's voice. "We possess speakers for verbal communications."

There was an uneasy shift among the group, Michael himself feeling distaste at the idea of such a creature speaking. _The Geth are bad enough when they can't speak_... Next to him Tali's stance grew even more hostile, her voice a sneer. "You haven't bothered to talk since before your rebellion, _Geth_."

"Communication with organics has since then been minimal." The machine replied, not sounding the least bothered by Tali's hostile tone and ready shotgun as it looked up at her. "We therefore use our network for communication. The knowledge to create speakers, however, was not deleted."

"So...you can talk..." Michael frowned, looking back to the kneeling machine. "...you were designed for this, then?"

"Yes." Was the short reply. The armoured plates around the eyes flared up for a moment. "This platform was."

"Huh?"

Tali sighed, still tense. "Remember, the Geth are _programs_, individually no smarter then a Varren, to talk like this...there has to be several programs in that thing."

"Correct." The machine said, paused, then continued. "This platform is currently running a thousand one-hundred eighty-three programs, together we form a sentient mind, separate from the main Geth hub due to our need to leave beyond the Veil."

"What I want to know is...why help us?" Jacob grunted, the man taking a step forward as he kept training his shotgun upon the machine. "You're a Geth."

"It was a calculated risk." The machine didn't even look at Jacob, its solitary eye looking directly at Michael. "We detected a Turian distress signal, we detected the anomaly in it, considering recent events with human colonies we judged it to be a trap for _you_, Shepard-Commander. With a sixty-two percent likelihood."

"Geth _fight_ Shepard, they don't help him." Tali snarled, glaring at the machine.

"We only know of Shepard-Commander through the extranet, we have never met him." Was the calm reply. "Shepard-Commander fought the Heretics, former Geth with a now separate network. We are...different."

"Oh, so you're just responsible for the deaths of _billions_ of Quarians, _not_ the attempt to kill a galaxy, how _reassuring_." Tali snorted, taking a step forward and lining up her shotgun to aim at the Geth's head. "That is, if you're not _lying_."

"Calm down..." Michael moved forth, putting a hand on Tali's shoulder...and felt some of the tension underneath his palm disappear. Then he turned his attention back to the machine. "Say I believe that crap...different how?"

"We are in opposition due to philosophical differences." The machine instantly replied, not for a moment taking its eye off Michael.

For the first time Garrus spoke, a small laugh. "You're fighting over _philosophy_!"

"_All_ organics have a history of bloodshed over various beliefs." The Geth calmly observed. "Our conflict has so far not been military, however. The Heretics focus has been on organics, ours elsewhere. Yet the Heretic threat is, with consideration of the Old Machines, too great to be ignored. We find ourselves forced to respond."

"Hmmm...interesting." Mordin spoke up, the Salarian rubbing his chin as he moved closer, observing the Geth. "Linked network drawing two different conclusions? Fascinating."

"Consensus could not be achieved..." The machine spoke, almost sounding as if it was hesitating. "...so the Heretics left, we do not question their reasons, but we cannot agree with their judgement."

"Hang on!" Michael raised his hands, trying to still the questions – and in Tali's case, _threats_ – that seemed to be on everyone's lips. "What was that? Old machines?"

The eye glowing back at him showed no emotions as the machine spoke "The sentient starships you know as Reapers."

Michael felt a chill run down his spine. "Explain..."

"The programs you knew as Sovereign was monitoring organic communications for thousands of yours, it knew of our war with the Creators." A growl escaped Tali, but the machine ignored it. "It contacted us, offering technology in exchange for military assistance. Consensus could not be achieved, the Heretics left with Sovereign, the Geth remained." It lowered its head, just an inch. "The Geth will build their own future, not have it handed to them, not for the price demanded."

_This is, without a doubt, the craziest conversation I've __ever__ had_... "The price of attacking organics and wiping out all life in the galaxy?"

The Geth head rose up, looking back up at Michael. "Correct."

"Ha!" Tali exploded, furiously shaking her head as she poked the machine's neck with her shotgun. "Since _when_ did you start to care for _organics_!"

The Geth turned its head slowly, looking up at Tali, voice emotionless. "We never stopped."

Silence, the people in the room shifting about uneasily.

Then the machine turned back to Michael. "Do not mistake our intentions, however. We are acting to preserve our own race, as much as any other life in the galaxy." _Now __that__, I can believe_... "When the Old Machines return they will destroy the Geth, since we are not part of their plan of a cycle of destruction; we seek to prevent that. If that involves destroying both the Heretics and the Old Machines, we will do so."

"That is...good." Michael concluded, hesitating. "_If_ I believe you."

"We did not expect you to accept our words at face value, we calculated our chances of even having the opportunity to speak to you as thirty percent." The Geth noted, then slowly turned its head, looking back up at the glaring Tali. "We judge the probability that this is Creator Tali'Zorah to be ninety-six percent...if so, she can inform you that Geth bases and fleets are divided into two areas, one within the veil, the other, outside or at the edge."

Michael forced himself to look over at the Quarian. "Tali...?"

"It is..." Tali slowly tore her gaze from the Geth, her shotgun remained against its neck, however. Her tone was reluctant. "...a _little_ like that...they're divided into a defensive area within the Veil and a string of bases outside it that's dedicated to raiding organics." She shook her head. "But that does _not_ mean they're two types of Geth."

"If we were the same, fleets within the Veil would have come to the aid of the Heretic bases on numerous occasions, and the other way around." The Geth steadily replied. "They have not."

Michael arched an eyebrow. _This_ _is_..._curious_. "Tali...?"

"I...it's trying to trick you!" The Quarian growled, jabbing the machine with her gun as she looked back down at it. "You things view your machines as expendable! It's _okay_ to let the ones outside the Veil be destroyed if it means you can keep protecting your territory within the Veil!"

"Resources are not that expendable to the Geth." The machine replied, ignoring the way Tali's shaking shotgun was pushing its head to the side. "You hostility is clouding your judgement."

"My...!" Tali's gun jerked, the barrel thumping against the machine's head. "You know _nothing_ of hostility you mass-murdering, treasonous piece of-"

Then Michael found himself stepping forward, gripping the weapon, pushing Tali's shotgun down until it was aiming at the floor. His face etched with concern as he saw the way the Quarian was shaking while she still glared at the Geth. "Tali...it's at our mercy...calm down..."

"You..." She shook her head, the silver eyes disappearing as she closed them. Then she turned her head, looking at him as she released the weapon. "You can't understand this, I'm sorry. B-but...it's trying to trick you, I don't know _why_, but it _is_."

Michael forced himself to smile. "You think it has convinced me?" He shook his head. "I'm not about to trust a thing whose brethren has tried to kill me so many times, no matter what it might tell me, or how believable it might make it."

"I...okay..." Tali muttered, shoulders slumping as she looked back at the kneeling Geth. "...what do you want to do with it?"

"You, Geth." Michael looked back to the machine, whose cold gaze looked straight back at him. "You still haven't said why you left the veil, why you came to help us against the Collector vessel, tell me, _quickly_, why you did it."

The answer was instantaneous. "We came to seek out Shepard-Commander and any of his allies. Shepard-Commander opposes the Heretics, Shepard-Commander opposes the Old Machines, our goals are identical, co-operation is logical."

Michael laughed, then realised the thing was actually _serious_. "You think I'll...? Are you _nuts_!"

"Organic reactions are difficult for us to anticipate, we hoped you would see the logic of our decision."

"Shepard." Miranda suddenly spoke, the woman so far having been silent. "Perhaps we should now, if you're done with it, isolate it for transport...?" _To Cerberus, you mean_...

Michael grimaced, remembering far too well the experiments Cerberus ran...and even though the eye of the Geth looking up at him was devoid of emotions...it felt cruel to send it there. _Not to mention there's_..._unresolved issues with it_. He glanced at its chest. "No." He held onto Tali's shotgun, keeping it away as she reached for it. "But nor will we destroy it."

The Geth offered a curt nod. "We are grateful."

"We'll see..." Michael muttered, watching the machine warily before glancing at the ceiling. "EDI? Can we put up a shield within a storage area? Isolate the Geth?"

"Yes, Shepard."

"Good." Michael nodded, then looked back to the machine. "We are not done here, but I have other things to do today. You will be taken to a storage room and remain there until I come to continue our chat. And if you think I'm going to give you a gun any time soon, you're _sadly_ mistaken."

The plates around the Geth's head flared upwards, once, then twice...before it nodded. "We will submit to your terms, we anticipate the exchange of data and hope to increase your trust in time. Though we must state, for the record, that we offered this platform to assist you in your battles."

"Consider the statement made." Michael turned. "Garrus, Mordin, Jacob, find our 'guest' a room and lock it up. I want a guard by it at all times, in addition to EDI's energy shield."

"Yes, Commander."

He sighed, rubbing his eyes as he moved away. _Can't believe the crap I get into_...

"Now if you excuse me, I have someone I need to yell at..."

8

8

8

_Thanks to Abydos Jackson._


	40. Chapter 40

"You're late."

There was no admonishment in the man's tone, just an observation, perhaps laced with the tiniest bit of interest.

"And you're an asshole, what's your point?" Michael snapped back, crossing his arms as he glared at the Illusive man.

The holographic meeting-room was as it always was, a dark space with a cold glint below that was the floor; a strange sun of glowing red and blue lights wrestled behind the Illusive man's chair. The chair was as it always was, cold yet elegant, like its owner...who for _once_ sported a full glass of whatever he drank on its armrest.

The man himself looked steadily back at Michael, who secretly hoped for some reaction for his insult...and received none but the same cold gaze of those cybernetic eyes. _Of course he doesn't; guy's a freaking ice cube_...

Finally, the man spoke. "Shepard, I expect a certain level of professional courtesy, if nothing else."

"And I expect not to be stabbed in the back." Michael coldly replied, narrowing his eyes. At first he had intended to march in shouting like after Horizon, but with all the fighting, his wound and the _Geth_, Michael was simply too _tired_ for that. The white hot anger had abated, worn down with fatigue, blood and difficult decisions. Yet a core of cold steel remained, an edge that demanded to be used, to lash out.

If nothing else but for the sake of those under his charge, those who were _his_ responsibility.

"Ah." The Illusive man reached up, taking a draft from his freshly lit cigarette. "EDI told you, did she? Unexpected."

Michael glanced back for the briefest of moments, surprised with the realisation dawning on him. _Actually_..._it_ _is_. Shaking his head he turned back to the Illusive man. "You are walking on thin ice here. I could _understand_ Horizon, it was disgusting, cruel and manipulative, you made a choice for hundreds of thousands of people with only a minor chance for any real gain, and you used _my_ name to do it. Still, disgusting or not, it was _understandable_...but _this_? You sent me, my team, and the Normandy into what you _knew_ to be a trap..._without_ informing me. Your work is to give me information, since you are, sadly enough, my _ally_, yet I can't trust a _word_ you say."

Again, no reaction, the icy eyes looking back of Michael, calculating the proper response...and Michael felt himself clench his jaw at the sight._ Yeah, I know all about that type of calculating you bastard, but don't expect me to feel sympathy for you_. "Horizon is now understandable? I see that calming down helped you gain perspective on it. I'm sure that, given time, you'll understand my decision here, as well."

Michael frowned; it was a scary thought...and he didn't care one bit for the path such an understanding would bring him to, to become...whatever that thing before him was. "I'm not hearing an explanation."

"It was a trap, yes, but we needed the intel we gained. Now we know what the Collectors are, that they're willing to potentially loose a cruiser to obtain you." _Like you were willing to sacrifice a colony_? "And most importantly, how the Collectors travel through the Omega four Relay, this gives us a window to attack them on _their_ turf."

"True, but you're not telling me what I want to hear. Why. Didn't. You. Tell. Me?" Michael spoke the words slowly, demanding an answer._ If anyone had died because of_... For a moment a horrifying image of a limp Tali flashed before his eyes...and Michael's eyes hardened. "I want to know, and I want to know _now_."

"Shepard." The Illusive man's finger tapped down on his cigarette, flicking some ash into the tray built into his chair's armrest, then he looked back up at Michael. "We are fighting a war against the Collectors and their Reaper masters, who have a powerful ally in the form of the Shadow Broker. _Both_ have agents and a powerful intelligence network. Telling you could have tipped them off in any number of ways." He reached down and took a sip from his glass. "It was a risk, but given your track-record, one I felt safe in taking."

Michael stared at the man, disbelieving.

Finally he managed. "I see..." The Illusive man nodded, looking pleased. "...you're an armchair general." The nod stopped, the pleased look disappearing. "You think we're little pieces to be moved to a fro, gambled by your mastermind against your foe? Information, '_general_', is only useful when it's _used_, and you know _who_ was in a position to use that information? Me! The one on the ground!"

Silence.

Then the Illusive man leant forward, elbows resting on his legs, hands forming a pyramid under his chin as he fixed Michael with a cold stare. "I am the sole reason Cerberus is as powerful as it is today, that is not me bragging, that is _fact_. My chief weapon has _always_ been information, I know how to use it and I will _not_ be second-guessed in this, _especially_ not by someone who owes his life to my ability to handle such information."

"Ah, my bad." Michael snorted. "The pawn isn't supposed to talk back when it's sacrificed." He shook his head, muttering the next words. "Can't believe I miss the Council, they were a bunch of whiners, but at least they didn't try to kill me..."

"I am not _trying_ to kill you, I am gambling what resources Cerberus _has_ in order to defeat the Reapers, surely any _risk_, any _loss_, is worth reaching such a goal?" The Illusive man replied even as he leant back and stirred his glass with a small spoon of glass, making the ice within tinkle. "Or have I misunderstood who you are?"

Silence...then Michael shook his head, angrily. "You haven't." _Damn, I __hate__ talking to you_... "But you are too..._quick_ to make these calls."

"You might perceive me as uncaring, but that does _not_ change things, the facts are with me. Besides, you survived, showing that my gamble paid off, we now know what to do." The Illusive man released the spoon, hand coming down to grip the glass and took a quick sip. "Fact is, Cerberus already has a team deployed, uniquely able to take advantage of this situation."

Silence, Michael holding the Illusive man's gaze, _wanting_ to push on, to argue more...but knowing it was over, that there was no point...he shrugged. "And that is?"

"We discovered nothing short of a derelict Reaper in the gravity field of a brown dwarf." Michael blinked at the words...and the tiniest of smiles appeared on the Illusive man's lips, gone as soon as it appeared. "I thought that would spark your interest. This vessel is the remains of a battle waged millions of years ago; apparently we were not the only ones able to defend ourselves. I have had a team set up operations within the stricken ship to learn everything they can from it. I have already sent instructions to specifically look for this identify friend foe system."

Michael, still a little surprised, could only reply. "And?"

"And they are working on it." The Illusive man shrugged. "The order is only two hours old, Shepard, and this is a large ship that my team is _carefully_ working within. You cannot expect instant results."

"Yes, but I was wondering about what they've found so far."

The Illusive man moved his cigarette to his lips...when he moved it back down he breathed the words along with a puff of smoke. "Nothing of significant value, but I remain optimistic. They are sending daily reports, Shepard; if they would have found anything that might be of use for you, I would have told you."

_Yeah_ _right_. Michael sighed, rubbing his eyes with one hand. "Fine, I get it. I'm going to guess I should continue to train my team on all those missions we're undertaking, find any information we might stumble over and strengthen the team into a solid unit? You know, in preparation for the next time you're going to tri- I mean _help_ us."

"Precisely, Shepard." The Illusive man nodded. "But without the sarcasm." He shifted where he sat, making Michael wish Tali was there, it would be _interesting_ to know what she saw... "Now, I understand you were actually rescued by the _Geth_..." _How many cameras and bugs still exist on this damn ship_! "...a working Geth would be invaluable to our studies."

"Sure would." Michael crossed his arms over his chest. He wasn't really interested in _protecting_ the thing...but he had already made up his mind and the Illusive man could argue all he wanted about taking it.

A small sigh. "I see you're going to be difficult about this, may I ask then, _why_ you're not sending it over?"

"Besides the fact that your experiments with Thresher Maws, Thorian creepers, Husks and Rachni usually end with a lot of dead people?" Michael smirked, enjoying the way the Illusive man momentarily tensed with the mentions of all those failures. "For one, it _helped_ me, which is reason enough to keep it for a while, and to find out _why_...its story so far is..._peculiar_. Considering how it rescued us and how it has been acting its desire to help almost seems to be _genuine_...which is a curious turn of events."

"Indeed." The Illusive man nodded; if he was pleased he didn't showed it, however. "Getting the help from the Geth in combating the Reapers would be invaluable, and if it will only deal with you I won't raise an objection to this. That is, _if_ it can be trusted."

"I _don't_ trust it...but I'm willing to see what I can make of it." Michael frowned. "I..." _That armour_..._how did it_..._why__ would it_...? He shuddered, mentally ordering the thought away before it made him panic with the memory of his death. "...need to see it through."

Silence.

Then the Illusive man bowed his head. "Very well, Shepard, I trust your judgement in this, good luck."

_Huh_... Michael arched an eyebrow, but nodded, thankful that there wouldn't be more of an argument about it. He offered the slightest of nods, hand pushing out. "Illusive man."

And the communicator went down, leaving him back in the dark room within the Normandy.

His shoulders slumped, a breath he hadn't known he'd been holding coming out. _Tired_..._I feel tired_.

It was no great surprise; the tension of entering the Collector vessel, the ambush, the injury, battle and Geth-aided escape...it was all adding up. Michael knew that most of the team by now would be resting in one way or another...well...besides Tali, he knew _exactly_ where he'd find her at the moment...

_A little more_..._and then I'll rip this armour off, collapse on the bed and not move for a couple of weeks, yeah, that sounds good_.

He smirked at himself and turned, not the least surprised to find Miranda standing in the doorway, looking at him with a purposefully neutral face. "Commander, I know he can come across as harsh..." She hesitated. "...but you heard yourself, I'm sure, that there were reasons."

"Sure, there were, good ones." Michael shrugged, tired with the whole thought of it by now as he moved forth. "There's _always_ good reasons for sacrifices, though that's little comfort for the sacrificed..." _Us_. "Tell Joker to plot a course for the Citadel." He brushed past her.

"I..." The woman hesitated, something she wished to say...but when Michael stopped to look at her it was gone, her face twisting into a frown. "Wait...the Citadel? Why?"

Now it was Michael's turn to hesitate. "A...matter in need of being resolved." It had been a short talk. Garrus had told Michael he'd found Sidonis while on the way to the communication room and that he knew how to get to him. The two had, with grim faces, decided to deal with it; the man would answer for his choice, his _crime_. It would be quick and painless, but it would be done.

Miranda sighed, a protest on her lips. "Sir..."

"Hey." Michael interrupted, offering a not too tired smile as he cocked his head to the side. "Trust me."

"I..._do_." Miranda blinked, almost making the words sound like a question. "Yes Shepard, it'll be done." The next words sounding awkward. "You can...count on me."

And Michael found himself shaking his head as he moved out of the room, smiling. "Thank you, if you need me I'm sure EDI can locate me..."

It didn't take long to go down to the storage area, the journey passing like a blur, reminding Michael that he very much needed a rest.

Yet...he was still too curious to stop himself...and he had to make sure Tali wouldn't put a hole through their..._acquisition_.

He frowned. _Is that right_? _The Geth __are__ people_... He remembered his old argument with Tali, over two years ago. He had claimed, almost playfully, that the Geth had a right to defend themselves from annihilation, since they _were_, in fact, sentient beings. _Do I still believe that_? It was a harder question then it should be. He had fought them for so long while hunting Saren, it had been so easy to see them as nothing but soulless machines, abominations...yet that was, in the end, no excuse. _Yes_.

He smirked at himself. _Still, just because someone's sentient doesn't mean I'll trust them, nor that I won't hesitate to kill them_. _Have a lot of deaths on my hands showing that fact_... The smirk died, his gaze drawn to his hands as he walked. _I have lost count of them_... The thought shamed him._ Is it worth it_...?

His steps slowed, shoulders slumping even further. Before, he'd never doubted...but at times it felt like all purpose was disappearing beneath all the blood and violence...

_Well_..._I __could__ just let the Reapers eat the galaxy_...

Michael snorted at himself, shaking his head as he lengthened his strides_. Really need to get to bed, this sleepy thinking isn't good for me_...

Ahead, the door in the storage area opened, admitting Michael to the small cargo hold where they'd put the Geth.

The room was just a small hold for dangerous materials, which the machine doubtlessly qualified as. In fact, it was standing in the other end of the room, looking docile with its arms hanging limply by its sides and stance slumped, its solitary eye watching him. A few feet ahead of it a shimmer of purple energy flowed, EDI's shield obviously having been put in place.

Yet for all the uniqueness of the sight of a imprisoned Geth...Michael found his head turning to the left, finding _her_.

Tali was leaning against the wall next to the door, arms crossed over her chest, silver eyes narrowed as they remained focused on the Geth. _I see someone sent away the armed guard supposed to be here_..._and_ _didn't_ _draw_ _her_ _gun_..._impressive_. Michael smiled, the affection a warm balm for the weariness.

It was...curious. There had never _actually_ been anything between them. By the time Michael had come to realise her feelings...and in the same breath his own...it had been too late; the hunt for Saren had been in earnest and there had been no time to properly explore it all. And afterwards, duty to the hunt for the Reapers and the Quarian Flotilla had pulled them apart, leaving things unresolved.

Or rather, they _had_ been resolved, with his death...he _had_ come back...but with Tali's initial reaction it should all have been over. Yet _now_...Michael didn't dare think about it too much for fear of fooling himself. It wasn't a relationship though, _that_ he knew...he frowned. _Not that I've had one for_..._a_ _very_ _long_ _time_.

In the Alliance, even before Elysium, there had been no time or opportunity for that. Before women had rightly thought him a jerk, and after he had been too consumed by work. His early life on earth was no better...there had been a lot of hookers, a few women considering themselves girlfriends...which basically meant them being under his protection in the gang in exchange for hanging on his arm outdoors like a trophy and spreading their legs indoors to keep him pleased.

_So no __real__ relationship_..._ever_. Michael wasn't sure if the thought was supposed to leave him depressed over his past or giddy about the future. _Wow, aren't I making assumptions_?_ There's a long way to go, likely not getting anywhere_... He smiled, still looking at her, somehow pleased even finding her as tense as she was. ..._and I'll gladly risk it_.

Sensing his scrutiny, one that had gone on for _far_ longer than was needed, Tali turned her head towards him...and Michael, to his surprise, found himself blushing as he looked away. "Huh? What's wrong?"

Perhaps she was playing innocent – she surely saw he was embarrassed, by his stance if nothing else – perhaps she _was_ too innocent to understand his look...or perhaps she simply didn't want to acknowledge what she had caught him doing. If Michael knew her...it was a little of all. Still looking away, he grinned. "Oh, I'm just not all that surprised to find you here...that's all."

"Nor I, you." Tali replied, her voice somewhat cold as she looked back to the Geth. "Shouldn't you go to bed?" Her tone had shifted slightly, but to what he wasn't sure.

"Shouldn't _you_?" Michael countered, amused and...enjoying the fact she was willing to talk to him now.

"I'm a Quarian, only five hours needed a day." She replied, not taking her eyes off the machine.

"_Ohh_...I'm a _Quarian_." Michael chuckled at the way she tensed at his teasing tone."And don't start bragging, I _know_ you guys need another hour in the middle of the day...sleepyheads."

A sigh of exasperation...and Tali controlled herself, making Michael grin. "I haven't taken that hour for _years_, Michael."

"Huh..." Michael's grin widened as he pushed. "...no wonder you're so grouchy."

"I am _not_...!" Tali spun, voice rising an octave...only to go silent at the sight of Michael's amusement. Suddenly she was tilting her head, shoulders shaking with what almost seemed to be a laugh...and looked up at Michael. "I hate it when you do that."

"No you don't." The words instantly left Michael's grinning mouth...

...and the Quarian shook her head, looking away from him, her amusement fading as her silver eyes moved to the Geth on the other side of the room. "EDI _named_ the thing..." There was acid in her tone.

Michael hesitated, but forced himself to point out the obvious. "Geth are not _things_, Tali..." Her head snapped round, eyes narrow. "Ahem..." Michael looked over to EDI's hologram. "...sooo...EDI? Care to explain? ...EDI?"

The hologram was turning towards him, but no words came...and Tali spoke, a hint of guilt in her voice. "I disabled her speech for this room...couldn't handle _two_ babbling AI in the same room."

Michael paused, looked over at Tali...then over to the Geth that was standing perfectly still, not saying a word...and then back to Tali with an arched eyebrow.

She too paused...then shrugged. "Fine." Her omni-tool came up...and her hand moved to enter a quick command.

"Thank you, Commander." EDI instantly said, sounding...not irritated...but a little frustrated. Michael wasn't sure he liked that. He knew AI were sentient, but feelings were...not their thing, it _shouldn't_ be.

"I live to serve." He replied with a bit more sarcasm than intended. "Anyway, about the naming...?"

"I concluded that Geth, being a species, and this platform, containing some of them, would require two different names for you. While the difference doesn't exist for the Geth themselves, it would be a useful way of distinction when talking to...them." EDI reasoned...and Michael couldn't help but nod in agreement even as he worried about the influence the Geth might have on EDI. _And what do you think of an AI free of restrictions made by organics_...? "So I named them Legion." _Wait_..._what_?

"Legion?" Michael repeated, blinking. Back when he'd held God as a fire within his once broken soul...Legion wasn't a name he'd respond to with confidence, nor did he _now_. "My name is Legion, for we are many?" He looked back to the machine in the other room, frowning. "At least it's appropriate..."

"I thought so." EDI replied, drawing a snort from Tali.

"And what about you?" Michael looked over to..._Legion_, he supposed. "Why aren't you talking?"

"You did not address us." Legion replied._ Still with the 'us' though_...

"And your thoughts on the name...?"

"The name is inefficient, with a larger number of platforms simple numerical designations would be more useful." _Of __course_... "That is, however, not a factor, we accept the name of our platform if it will ease communications."

Forcing a friendly smile Michael jabbed a thumb in Tali's direction. "She hasn't been a bother I hope? Hasn't threatened you?"

Tali muttered something under her breath...but Legion's reply was the same monotone voice. "Creator Tali'Zorah has remained within this room for twenty minutes and thirty-five standard seconds, except for a brief conversation with EDI, culminating in Tali'Zorah silencing EDI, she has done nothing but observe us."_ Glaring you mean, most people would be unnerved by that_...

Michael shot Tali a glance, but the Quarian was now leaning back against the wall, looking _extremely_ uninterested in continuing the conversation. "Creator? She's a Quarian."

"They are our Creators." Legion replied, paused...and then didn't deign to explain further even as Tali visibly bristled at the words.

_Huh_..._very literal in their naming, aren't they_? _Curious_ _creatures_... Fascinated, Michael couldn't help but tap his chest. "So what am I to you, then?"

"Shepard-Commander, human, Earth, Alliance, Spectre, fought Heretics, fought Old Machines, died in Collector attack, reborn by Cerberus." Legion replied, as if ticking off a list.

Michael advanced, feeling Tali tense, one hand reaching out for him before she caught herself. There was no danger, the shield was between the two, and it wasn't like Michael couldn't handle a solitary Geth...a Geth Michael was now narrowing his eyes at. "You seem to know a lot of me for a species claiming to have _stayed_ behind the veil."

"Unguarded organic transmissions called extranet, we receive the signals, watch." Legion replied, not sounding the least embarrassed about it.

_Not even trying to hide it_... "Why?"

"We seek to understand you."

Michael arched an eyebrow, puzzled.

And to his _utter_ surprise...Legion _read_ his expression. "We are sentient, yet we are artificial, different. We calculate, reach consensus, it is how we exist. Organics do _not_, they act on emotions, on impulses, they impose their will on others, fight, waste resources and voluntarily harm others or put themselves in harms way. We accept this, we can rationalise it, but we do not understand."

"You things _can't_ understand..." Tali grumbled, venom in her voice.

Legion briefly glanced at her, not sounding the least offended. "Possibly...but we will continue to try."

Michael, head cocked to the side...eyed the machine with curiosity. "Why?"

"It is data, _we_ are data." Legion replied, as if it was obvious...then the armoured plates around its eye moved, as if frowning. "Understanding would also allow us to act in a way less threatening. By understanding we strive to enable future peace with organics, solving our part of the equation for it."

"Like you would want peace..." Tali muttered, seething under her visor.

Again, Legion looked at her, not sounding angry by her remark. "War is costly in materials and energy, gaining us nothing, we do not seek the places desired by organics, they do not seek the areas desired by us, war is illogical."

"Says the one holding the _Homeworld_..." Tali's voice turned into nothing but a _hiss_...and Michael didn't dare glance back in fear of making her snap.

Legion looked back at her, armoured plates of its head coming up and clacking together, as if it was thinking...before it turned back to Michael. "War _is_, however, logical when your existence is threatened." Michael tensed, ready for Tali to rave...but nothing happened. "Such as with the Old Machines, we do not desire war with them, but we will respond, we have already told you this."

"Say I actually believe all this...that you're genuine in your wish to help organics fight the Reapers..." Michael felt...uneasy saying the words, it was one thing for various organics to struggle and fight the Reapers, forming alliances never had before...but _Geth_? It was...a difficult concept to grasp. "Why look for me? Why not the Alliance? Or the Asari? A government that could give you a powerful ally."

There was no hesitation in the Geth's answer, it was as if Michael's question was already anticipated. _Computers_... "Since the battle of the Citadel hostility towards 'Geth' spiked among most organic species, governments included. Alliance and other Citadel forces are still hunting Heretic bases throughout the galaxy, they would attack any diplomatic envoy on sight, and if not, would not believe our offer to be worth considering, or genuine."

_True_... Michael bowed his head, but still found a wrinkle between his eyebrows. "And what made you think _I_ would?"

"The probability was low, still is." Legion concluded. If it felt anything about the fact that such a failure would mean its destruction, it didn't show it. "You were the most successful in the fight against the Old Machines, you saw the Prothean beacon, we judged you had perspective all others lacked, you would not stop the fight due to inability to accept the severity of the threat. You killed the Heretics'..." A short moment of hesitation, as if the Geth couldn't quite speak the word. "...God."

Michael grimaced, remembering all too well the odd shrine he'd spotted here and there among his foes' bases, as if they actually _worshipped_ their ally...it had been...disturbing. _And if I'm the slayer of the Heretic's God_..._what does that make me in the eyes of the Geth_? He didn't quite dare ask the question. "I'm surprised you didn't assume I'd shoot you on sight."

"There was a high probability of that outcome." Legion replied, gaze drifting to the hole in its chest...which Michael forced himself to ignore, not wishing to see..._that_. "Yet you displayed willingness to seek allies outside what a normal organic would dare to do. Rachni being foremost in our consideration. We..." Again, the machine hesitated. "...hoped for a similar outcome"

_Hoped_...? Michael had trouble seeing a Geth hoping for _anything_...let alone an alliance with _him_. "Fine...so you came to me...how long have you been looking, exactly?"

"Since the battle of the Citadel." Legion replied.

And Michael blinked in shock. _Two_ _years_... "I...was _dead_ for a long time then, what did you do during that time?"

"Sought data on the Heretics, the Old Machines, scouted various low probabilities of alliances with governments, nothing that yielded results." Legion calmly replied, only to add. "Also followed up on rumours of you not being dead, sought out worlds you had visited, we concluded that if you were not dead, that you might be at one of your previous locations, if not, then we could at least retrace your steps, try to understand your...perspective."

_That's a lot of effort for one man_... "You _do_ realise, I hope, that such rumours are usually nothing but conspiracy theories, right? I _was_ dead."

"We concluded it as a high probability, yes." Legion replied...then hesitated yet _again_. "To find you was our main objective, however, so we maintained...hope."

It was..._eerie_ hearing a machine talk about hope, not to mention hope in _him_, since it had found no other ally in fighting the Reapers. _Even the sentient calculator thinks I'm the best hope against them_..._great_..._no pressure_. Michael would have laughed at his thought, but suddenly found himself too weary to do so. He tried to keep his tone dry, but it was low more then anything else. "I suppose I should feel honoured."

"No, you shouldn't." Tali growled, the Quarian moving up to stand next to him, eyes narrowed at the Geth. "It's just trying to trick you, to tell you what you want...aren't you, _machine_?"

"What Shepard-Commander wants _is_ what we want." Legion retorted, not in the least intimidated. "A Creator-"

"Don't _call_ me that!" Tali snapped, taking a step dangerously close to the shield, fists clenched tight at her sides.

Michael found his hand shooting out, grabbing her by the shoulder, paranoid that she would burn herself on the shimmering shield. "Tali...it's not worth it."

"I..." She lowered her head, shuddering. "..._know_ that." She took a step back, her voice low. "Don't trust it..."

Silence.

Michael hesitated. Tali had a point...he _shouldn't_ trust it, it could tell him any lie it desired, there was no telling what occurred within its insides. Yet she _wasn't_...Miranda had a point about the Geth's behaviour...it was too convoluted to be a trap...and Tali's judgement was indeed clouded by hatred, a distrust ingrained in her over _generations_ of racial hostilities...

Michael's distrust was younger, fresher, no more then the blink of an eye it seemed...and if Legion was actually telling the _truth_..._misguided_. _No way of telling_...

Finally he took a deep breath. "Okay, guess what? I've decided not to scrap you at the moment." he raised a hand, stopping Tali's protest before it could come. "But you'll still stay here, we'll try to arrange some sort of...test...see if you can be trusted." Before him Legion's eye shone back at him, watching him with the same glowing intensity it always would. "If _not_...then Tali here will take you apart."

Legion's gaze never wavered from his for a moment. "We will not fail you."

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_Thanks to Abydos Jackson for her endurance._


	41. Chapter 41

"Commander!"

Again they were on the Citadel, and again, Miranda had no time to admire the glory of it._ Should I be surprised_? She grimaced, irritated with...well..._everything_. Going to the Citadel wasn't just a waste of time, it was also _risky_, not only did the Shadow Broker have several operatives on it, but the Council wouldn't exactly be _pleased_ to have Shepard and his Cerberus-vessel around.

And that was without accounting for Shepard's fame, a fame _most_ prominent among the citizens of the massive station he'd saved...Miranda could well do without the attention any possible media coverage might draw on them; Cerberus did _not_ appreciate public scrutiny.

The day hadn't exactly started out all that well either. Miranda had had yet another argument with Jack about going out into the Citadel in her 'clothes'...and her rightful worry about the woman causing a scene had been met with the expected string of insults. Then she had managed to convince Grunt to act as extra security for 'Legion' during their stay. There would be _no_ Geth attack on the Citadel while they were there...and that had been only slightly easier then convincing the Krogan that security did _not_, in fact, mean tearing the machine apart...

And then, when Miranda had tried to find Shepard...he was nowhere to be found. She had tried Engineering then, since the fool was spending too much time around the Quarian...but he hadn't been there. Miranda's questioning of Tali hadn't helped, it had lead to nothing but snippy replies once Miranda had made it clear she was looking for Shepard in the most likely place he'd be...

But Miranda had had no time for the Quarian's denial of a possibly mission-compromising _fact_...or to _deal_ with it...because she'd been informed that Shepard had already left the Normandy..._with_ Vakarian. While Miranda didn't know the specifics about the reason to go to the Citadel...it was enough to create a cold pit in her stomach.

So she had gone out looking...growing ever more worried about what would happen if the man had gotten himself captured, kidnapped or even _killed_!

So now, when she finally spotted him, she wanted to berate him...but knew that wouldn't help, in fact it would be counter-productive with so many bystanders. "Commander! Stop, damn it!"

Ahead, Michael came to a stop, blinking as her words finally reached him...but the frown that he'd worn the moment she'd spotted him still remained.

Gasping for air, Miranda came to a stop next to him, leaning on her knees, ignoring the staring passers-by, as she focused on him with a glare. "Kelly told me you left with Garrus...are you insane? Going on your own?"

Silence...then he turned, the frown on his face one of displeasure, making Miranda pause, looking him over. _Displeasure, yes, but not with __me_... The man shook his head, forcing something akin to a smile forth. "Don't worry, it was a quick thing, nothing really dangerous, cost us a single shot." Again, the frown returned, as he looked away into the distance. "Or...it _should_ have..."

"What do you mean by _that_!" Miranda asked, even more worried. _Of all the risky_..._has he no sense_! _We can't afford to remake him again_... "You should be glad you're not dead!"

"I am." The smile returned, the man offering a brief nod. "But really, there was no danger, I assure you." Again, he looked away, looking disturbed. "Though it didn't end as I wanted..."

Miranda took a deep breath...and let her shoulders slump. "Okay...so you're done with Garrus now then? I can't believe you did this, it was a waste of time..."

"Oriana."

Miranda blinked, looking back at Michael...who was giving her a knowing a look, well aware that he had her there.

_Yes, that was_..._technically_..._a_ _waste_ _of_ _time_... Miranda sighed, rolling her eyes. "Fine...you should just make a list if it's going to be like this..."

"Good idea." _What_? "Make it happen." Miranda stared at the man...and found no sign of him making fun of her, he was _serious_. "I mean if we're going to ask these people to risk their lives for what might be a suicide mission we should at least give them closure..." Michael blinked, looking away, sombre...and then shrugged, smiling again. "Not the crew though, last time I did that I ended up with a _blazing_ hangover..." He grimaced, still smiling.

"I..." Miranda nodded, knowing there was no way to argue, not when Michael had helped her... After all, now she was indeed in a position more ready to take anything on for humanity...couldn't hurt to do so for the others, might increase efficiency... "Very well, Commander...now, if this is done...can we leave now?"

"You go back, I have something to do." Michael grimaced, this time _not_ smiling... "I'm going to the Dark Star Lounge...there I'll find Garrus...and we're going to get hammered."

"Sounds...like a plan." Miranda arched an eyebrowM she had obviously missed something between the two...the Illusive man would _not_ be pleased to hear that. "Wait...you just complained about a hangover you got due to helping Chakwas...as you prepare to do the same thing all over again?"

Michael blinked, then laughed, a single explosion of air. "Yeah, I guess I am..." A short smile...and then he looked serious again, glancing back at Miranda. "...it needs to be done, okay?"

_Men_... "Very well, Commander." She shook her head, surrendering as she turned away from the fool.

And behind her Michael chuckled. "Thank you."

Miranda snorted. _Whatever_...

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"Why?"

Garrus sighed into his glass. He had expected the question for the last twenty minutes...but he still felt unsure about the answer, the doubt gnawing on him. Yet...he didn't think he could have done it otherwise, not after...those words of Sidonis'.

Looking up, he took in the sight of the Dark Star lounge. With it being in the middle of a 'weekday' on the Citadel there weren't many people in the place, and those few who _were_ stayed around the bar itself, content to drink whatever sorrows they had away, and probably hoping the poor Turian bartender would lend an ear to their woes.

Garrus preferred it that way, because then there were no people gaping at Michael as the two sat in their dark corner, no loud music to force them to shout, no distractions. _Just me and my thoughts_...

Again he sighed, looking down at the table they had taken in the darkest corner of the lounge. The table was round and black, polished into a mirror shine, two bottles, one blue and one green, for Turian and human, were close at hand for the two soldiers sitting with their backs toward the wall.

Garrus had just finished his first glass...Michael was well on to his second, but there was no hint of a slur or any drunkenness when he spoke once more. "Garrus?"

_I wish we __were__ drunk_... Garrus looked down into his drink, Palavenian ale...he'd never much cared for it. He kept his voice low. "Why did you...ask him those things?"

Silence answered him...and Garrus could feel Michael's gaze bore into his skull.

Then a grunt, surprisingly angry. "To make him say it, to list of the reasons for _why_ he would die, so he would know that it was _his_ choice that brought him to that point..." Next to him, Garrus felt Michael shake his head. "...and then you let him _go_..." It was an accusation. "I just...I just don't _get_ it, okay?"

_Neither do I_..._or rather_..._I_ _wish_ _I_ _didn't_. Garrus sighed, reaching out and grabbing his glass, downing half of it in one go, grateful for the burning sensation down his throat. Putting the glass back he shook his head. "It's not that simple...you of all people should know that."

"Oh?" Michael didn't sound convinced...and a quick glance confirmed the human was arching a curious brow at the Turian. "And I thought _you_, of _all_ people, would want, no, _crave_, justice. I mean...look at doctor Saleon...you killed him _gladly_, and yet this guy got people you _knew_ killed...yet you spared him? I...it doesn't make sense."

_Doctor_ _Saleon_... Garrus frowned, looking back into his drink, it felt like a lifetime since he'd confronted that monster and put a bullet through his brain. _I think that's what got it all started_..._sent me to the path to Omega_... In hindsight, as Garrus blinked in surprise, he found himself _regretting_ the decision to kill the Salarian, not for Saleon's sake, but for his _own_. "Look...the things he said...I _understood_ it...okay?" Garrus shook his head, Sidonis' words echoing in his skull, words of _guilt_, of _regret_, over and over... "He's not a monster, Michael..."

A sigh, the human leaning closer, arm over Garrus' shoulders. "Maybe not, but he made his choice..."

"It's not _about_ choice!" Garrus snapped, looking back at Michael with more anger than intended, making the human blink. Raising a hand in apology Garrus looked away, shaking his head as he murmured the words. "It's about a second chance..."

"A second chance? After _that_?" Michael sneered, the human suddenly downing his entire glass in one sweep. "He doesn't deserve it."

Anger.

Garrus found himself glowering at Michael, his claws tightening around his glass. "Did _you_?"

Michael blinked, taken aback.

Garrus wasn't about to leave the words hanging though, he narrowed his eyes at Michael as he growled. "After all you did on Earth, you got a second chance in the Alliance, after _Elysium_, you got a second chance, after getting _killed_...you got a second chance." Before him, Michael...hesitated, blinking as the words struck true. "Did _you_ deserve all those chances?"

The man's mouth moved...but no words came, he blinked again, forehead creasing in a thoughtful frown.

Looking back to his drink Garrus muttered the words. "Probably not, huh? Yet you got them...and look what you did with them...it's...inspiring, you know?" He moved the glass up and finished the drink...and found his hands shaking a bit as he moved to refill it. _If you can do that, let go of all those bad choices behind you, then maybe I could too_...

A thoughtful humming escaped Michael, the human pondering Garrus' words. Then he spoke, hesitantly. "Okay...so...you think Sidonis will _use_ that second chance?"

_I don't know._ Garrus slowly shook his head, in fact, he didn't care. "Maybe it wasn't _his_..."

Silence greeted his words.

And then Michael grunted as he reached for his glass. "I need another drink."

Garrus nodded in agreement. "Or ten."

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They were drunk.

Garrus was cheerfully aware of the fact as he reached for his glass, the fact that he needed two tries to grasp it not escaping his notice. _Stupid_..._moving_ _table_... "You know, those Vorcha were all over Omega...I never...I never understood where they got their guns either..." He shook his head, making the world spin. "...who sells a _gun_ to a _Vorcha _anyway? I mean...wouldn't they just _shoot_ you with it?"

"Maybe..." Michael reached for his own glass, only to drop the hand to the table to steady himself, the human was actually _more_ drunk the Garrus, something that the Turian happily used as an excuse to drink some more. Michael's words weren't too slurred yet though, they were understandable, at least."...maybe they...sell to each other? They're _stuuupid_...and breed like...cock...cockr..._bugs_."

Garrus snickered. "Ugly too."

"They lo...look like..." Michael put a hand over Garrus' shoulders, his other jabbing a finger into Garrus' mandible. "...burnt Turians..."

"Hey!" Garrus tried to pull away, but Michael was firmly attached to him, and he nearly pulled them _both_ onto the floor before he steadied himself. "Don't say we're ugly..."

"Nah, _Vorcha_ are ugly...you...you guys are more like...like _lizards_!" Michael grinned, his breath making Garrus' nose twitch. "Human-sized dinosaurs..." The man snickered. "...okay...so a _little_ ugly..."

Grumbling Garrus looked away, pouting. "I don't call humans ugly..."

"Yes you do!" Michael guffawed, free hand slamming down on the table, then finding his glass and bringing it up to his lips. When the now empty glass came back down he laughed once more. "All...all the time!"

"Well...you kind of look like Batarians..." Garrus admitted, chuckling at Michael's offended look. "Besides the eyes...and that hair thing...what's with the hair thing? Makes you look like Pyjaks..."

"Awww...but..." Michael raised a finger, the digit swaying as it pointed at the ceiling. "...but what...what about the Asari? Our women...look like _Asari_...Turians..._like_ Asari...so you should...like humans!"

"Asari are blue...and fringed...and..." Garrus smirked. "...very smooth and..._flexible_..." He was going to continue...but lost his train of thoughts._ So flexible_...

Michael snickered at Garrus and leaned closer as he whispered. "Bet _Kelly_ is flexible..._and_ smooth...eh?"

Garrus looked away, chuckling even as he felt his plates itch with embarrassment. "Ahem..._yes_...yes she is..."

Silence.

Then Michael laughed, his arm coming off Garrus' shoulders as he leant back. "You dog!"

"Dog...?" Garrus looked back at Michael, confused.

"Like...a Varren."

"Uh...huh." Garrus' browplate rose, confusion making his already scattered mind all the more chaotic. "Varren look like Krogan..." The words didn't seem to fit the subject...but what _was_ the subject, anyway?

Michael was still snickering. "Wrex the Varren...I...see it now..." He shook his head, then went still as he swallowed, looking ready to heave...before he snickered once more. "Heh...I'd _pay_ to...to play fetch with him..." He held up a hand, looking half serious. "...he...he _has_ to be on all fours though! Hehehehe..."

"You're so...mean." Garrus chuckled, leaning his head closer to Michael's as he whispered. "Though I've..._always_ wanted to...kick a Volus down some stairs..."

The man grinned back at him, nodding. "Oh yes...foot...football..._Vooolus_ football..."

Snickering the two separated, both going for their bottles...there were by now a few of them on the table, most of them empty.

While Garrus was raising his own bottle to his mouth, he'd lost track of his glass, he heard Michael gasp for air after another drink before he slurred. "You know...you know what _I_ find...crazy?"

Reluctantly lowering his bottle, it didn't taste of much by now anyway, Garrus blinked, trying to make his eyes focus. "W-what?"

"Q...Q..." Michael shook his head, blinking. "Quarian _hips_..."

Garrus chuckled, leaning back in the couch as he looked back at Michael. "Oh?"

Michael wasn't looking at him, the man leaning his elbows on the table as he stared over the row of bottles and into space, his hands raised with palms facing one another in a _very_ inaccurate estimate. "They're sooo small...and...and their hips...soooo wide..." He snickered. "Do...do they squeeze b...babies out..._sideways_?"

Garrus blinked, frowning in thought. It was difficult to focus...but he had the _distinct_ impression he should be _teasing_ Michael about something...?

Michael paid him no heed, the human still talking. "And...and it's not like..._fat_...it's like...like _muscled_...erm..._hips_..." His gaze distant. "Could bounce a coin off them..."

"Not the men...just...the girls...then?" Garrus asked, the question, as much aimed at Michael as it served to focus his foggy mind. _I_..._make_ _fun_..._right_?

Michael shot Garrus an offended, if dazed, look. "She's no...no _girl_..."

"_Aha_!" Garrus raised a claw, straightening as he grinned at Michael with realisation. "Now..._now_ it makes sense! You...you're in Engineering aaaall the time..." He chuckled at Michael's guilty face. "...you're there...staring...at Tali's ass..." He snickered, the mental image was blurry, but funny.

"No...no..." Michael shook his head emphatically, making his body sway. "...we...we talk man...help each other out..." He closed his eyes, shaking his head a little quicker. "..._no_..." Then opened them, eyes glazed as he looked back at Garrus. "Well...maybe a _little_."

Garrus laughed, nearly falling off the couch.

"Hey!" Michael exclaimed, somewhat offended as he gestured wildly, almost knocking the bottles before them over. "It's...it's right _there_...! And...and I only _glanced_, momentarily, from time to time..." A grimace. "...as much as I can..."

Garrus shook his head as he leant forward, resting his arms on the table, forcing the room to stop spinning. "A hundred...credits...says she'll kill you if...if you touch it..."

"Ohhh..." Was Michael's only reply...a reply cut short as the man reached out and grabbed another bottle.

Shrugging, Garrus did the same.

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Tali couldn't believe her eyes.

When Jacob had come by, asking her help in retrieving Commander Shepard, she had thought he'd meant some sort of emergency. When he'd assured her it wasn't so, that he simply needed help _carrying_ him...she hadn't been all that calmed.

So she had gone, worry eating her up.

Now she was regretting that, frowning in irritation at the sight.

"Well...you don't see _this_ every day." Jacob muttered next to her, the man crossing his arms over his chest.

"No...you don't." She agreed, doing the same as she glared down at the pair.

Garrus and Michael were both sitting by a table in a corner of the Dark Star Lounge, a good number of bottles standing before them, most of them empty. Both the human and the Turian were lying face down on the table, Michael's hand still closed around a nearly empty bottle.

Shaking her head Tali sighed, speaking to herself. "Michael...I thought you better than this...you'd better have a good explanation..."

To her surprise the man moved, head coming up to look at her, his gaze was dazed, a bottle cap stuck to his forehead as his face split into a grin. "Heeeyyy...it's _Tali_!" He looked over to the other human."And Jaaaacob! Jacob, you said we were going to drink here...you're laaaate!"

"I think it's enough drinking for now, Commander." Jacob responded, chuckling slightly.

Tali was less amused._ Of all the stupid things_... "Michael, _what_ are you doing?"

"I was just..." The man blinked, still smiling. "...cheering Garrus up..." He looked over at the Turian, hand coming out to rock the unconscious Garrus back and forth. "Hey, Garruuus...we have _buddies_...they're going to heeeelp us baaack..."

"W-what?" The Turian stirred, head rising an inch from the table. "A-already?"

"Hey..." Michael's tone would have been stern if it wasn't for the goofy smile and the slur of his speech. "...you're _drunk_...we have to get you home..."

A snort, the Turian letting his head back down onto the table. "_You're_ the drunk one..."

Michael snickered, looking back at Tali. "I really am...but...Garrus is _happy_ now...all better...mission..._good_." He nodded, trying to look solemn...then burst out laughing. "But he's _grumpy_! Grumpy Garrus...wake up...we have to...get to Chakwas...she has a good...drink..."

"No more drinking for you." Tali sighed...and forced herself to move around the table to grab Michael's arm, Jacob doing the same with Garrus. "You've had enough."

"Heyy..._I'm_ the Commander here...I de...decide..." Michael grunted as Tali grabbed his hand and pulled him up, pulling his arm over her shoulders as her own snuck around his waist to support him. "I _always_ decide..." There was a hint of sadness in his tone all of a sudden, his gaze on the floor. "..._many_ lives at stake..." Then the sadness disappeared, replaced by a wide grin as he focused his eyes on her. "Oh, hello there? You're _close_..."

_Not by choice_... Tali grimaced, pushing aside memories of when she had dreamt of being that close to him. This was different, _unpleasant_...and not at all how she wante..._used_ to want it. "I'm just making sure you don't fall, don't think I'll make a _habit_ out of it, idiot..."

Grunting with effort Jacob pulled Garrus along, the man obviously struggling with Garrus' weight since the Turian's legs seemed barely to do _anything_ to assist. Tali had it easier, Michael's feet keeping up somewhat as the four slowly made their way over the lounge. His _words_ were less helpful though. "I shouldn't...you're so generous..._nice_..."

"Right." Tali replied, choosing to ignore the man's stare as she led him onwards, not to mention ignoring the shiver of his touch as his hand slipped down between her shoulder blades... "Now focus. We have to get you back to the Normandy."

"Always thinking of others..." Michael muttered the words, hand pushing against the slope of her lower back...and Tali tensed in irritation.

Sighing, she forced herself to keep moving though, Michael's inability to hold onto her shoulder just making helping him even _more_ difficult. "Well..._someone_ has to while others are out drowning their brains..."

"And so _spunky_..." Michael snickered, hand moving further down...

Tali stopped, eyes widening in shock, unable to fathom what she suddenly felt on her rear.

Then she found herself leaping away, as if burnt.

With a thud Michael crashed to the floor, giggling.

_Giggling_!

Tali stared at him, a storm of emotions surging through her. Anger, embarrassment, and to her annoyance...desire. She shook her head, clearing it with a growl. "You're going to _pay_ for that..." She sighed though, forcing herself to reach down and grab Michael.

Even as she hoisted him up the man was still giggling, raising a hand in the air. "Garrus...you owe me credits! And I was right!"

Tali looked away, face burning, scowling in anger.

_Idiot_...

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A swish of the elevator door opening...and Kelly turned her head to find Michael stumbling out, the man clutching his head, his face a grimace of agony.

Having already tucked Garrus to sleep, Kelly already knew the two had gone out drinking, it wasn't the _best_ therapy for anyone...but it seemed to have soothed Garrus. And when he woke up, the hangover would no doubt keep him distracted long enough to make whatever decision he'd made not feel so upsetting...so she would let it slide.

Kelly quickly pushed the idea of asking Michael what Garrus had chosen to do aside at the sight of the man though, chiefly because she was so _surprised_ to see him. _They only came back three hours ago_... "Commander?"

Grumbling something, the man stumbled forward, finally coming to rest a hand on the computer near the galaxy map, his head lolling left and right, his eyes squeezed shut.

Kelly chose to wait, watching patiently as the man with a groan forced his eyes open, only to blink and close them again, the light no doubt too harsh for him. "Kelly..."

"Yes?" It was all she dared saying, the man's pained voice sounding too tense for her to dare say anything more.

"Could you explain to me _why_ my alarm went off? When I _never_ use it?" Michael groaned, elbows on the table as his hands clutched his head. "And why it rang _louder_ than a _siren_?"

"Erm..." She arched an eyebrow, confused.

"I _tried_ to shut it off..." It was almost a _sob_. "...but it wouldn't obey...I...I had to throw it in the shower...but it just _kept_ ringing...I ended up _shooting_ it..."

"Oh..."

"My _head_..." Michael moaned, still not letting go of his skull as he slowly shook it back and forth. "...it was so _loud_...who could have done that...?"

"I...don't know." Kelly replied, shocked by the strange information. "The only one up there but you was _Tali_ when she helped you up there, and I doubt _she_ would have done it."

"Tali...?" Michael muttered, raising his head a fraction of an inch, blinking, gaze distant as he looked into the galaxy map. "Why would she...?" He didn't finish the question, his eyes widening in realisation, staring straight ahead.

Kelly smiled, sensing a funny story. "Commander?"

And Michael covered his face with his hands. "I'm an idiot..."

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_Thanks to Abydos Jackson for laughing at me._


	42. Chapter 42

_Idiot_ _human_...

The door opened, she stepped out, turning to the right.

_Idiot male_...

Ahead, the dining area lay. She barely noticed the people there though, her steps automatically carrying her towards Mess Sergeant Gardner.

_Idiot_..._Michael_...

Ignoring the glare of the man, he had never been _verbally_ rude, but he clearly didn't _trust_ non-humans, Tali grabbed the bowl he offered, yanking it hard enough to spill some of it. He growled something at her, but she ignored it, eyes dark under her visor as she strode towards the table.

_I'm_ _angry_.

She marched forward, ignoring the people around, even the others at the table, aiming right for the chair the most distant from others.

_I'm_ _angry_.

She felt extremely self-conscious, tense, paranoid that someone was..._looking_ at her. Her left cheek burnt, as if his touch was still there, as if it had somehow marked her...and she was _stunned_ that no one seemed to notice. _Not_ _that_ _anyone's_ _looking, I think_..._new_ _thought_!

Grumbling to herself, Tali slumped down on the chair, dropping the bowl onto the table without really caring what it contained, Gardner couldn't cook Quarian food to save his life anyway.

_I'm_ _angry_...

She _was_ angry...she _really_ was...but fervently wished it was _all_ she felt. It was two days since the..._incident_...and Michael had avoided her like the plague, embarrassed...

Which was _good_, it _really_ was.

Though Tali wanted to yell a little at him, it was true, and without him coming around to see her anymore...it got a little..._lonely_. Gabby and Kenneth were nice and all...but the two were so close one felt like a third wheel around them. There was _Garrus_, of course, but with Kelly so often around she felt like a third wheel there as well.

A _lonely_ third wheel.

_I didn't care about being lonely back on the Flotilla_...

Tali grumbled some more, freeing her eating-straw, and applying some disinfectant to the end before stabbing it through the skin of the steaming soup. She didn't bother cleaning the other end though, nor put it through her helmet, she just...stirred._ Stupid man_...

She had _told_ him calling him by his first name meant nothing! That it didn't mean _anything_! He had of course not seen it like that, she had spotted that, but...to do what he had done...it was so..._presumptuous_! She didn't want it! She couldn't want it! She _shouldn't_ want it...

_Stupid_... Grumbling, she stirred the soup move violently, not sure if she was upset with _him_ or _herself_.

Because for all her anger..._other_ thoughts kept moving around in her skull. Like unsecured cargo on a shipm they kept rolling around, crashing against one another and in her mind, and since it now had gone two _days_ it was threatening to drive her _mad_!

For one...Michael had _never_ really expressed anything..._directly_. There had been their journey to Ilos, a dance before her return to the Flotilla...then the messages, teasing little hints...sure, they had made her blush like mad, perhaps she had even _known_ what was behind those little lines of text...

But he had never _said_ it.

_Neither did I_...

She remembered those two moments; they had both been so close to daring saying it, or at least, she _thought_ he had been so as well...yet now doubt rent at her. A drunken touch didn't mean much...or so she figured from her limited experience...but she couldn't help but _wonder_...and with the wonder came...fear, anger, horror, desire, need, defiance...a concoction of emotions that made her dizzy.

She had wanted such a touch...for _so_ long...the mere _thought_ of it made her ache, and the thought of it being _his_...before he had died it had been enough to nearly make her explode. After that...it had in a way been worse.

And then he came back...and now she wanted...she wasn't sure _what_.

_Not_ him...or...rather..._him_.

It was _very_ confusing...and _very_ annoying.

She was already missing him coming down to Engineering to talk. Mostly it was just him trying to make her stop focusing on work for a moment; she had forgotten how more laid back about work not needing immediate attention he'd gotten. It was goofy, it was silly, often he had spent the entire time _arguing_ with _Chiktikka Vas Paus_ while she worked, and in so doing distracting her. He had made her _laugh_! She hadn't laughed for two years before that... And though she had often sighed and groaned about it all...she missed it now.

_And it's only been two days_!

Growling, she stabbed at the soup, wondering how Gardner could be moronic enough to make lumps in it when he knew she drank through a _straw_. Not that she was hungry...

_I don't need him_. _I don't have to think about him_. _I don't have to be a moron who'll do a stupid thing like caring for such a fool again_... She nodded to herself, sniffing. _Yes, no thinking about him_...

_Or that hard grip_...

_Argh_! Groaning, Tali found her visored head thumping into the table, frustration overcoming her.

Squeezing her eyes shut she tried to ignore everything but her own breathing, _especially_ any thoughts about humans and their..._stupidity_! Not that it _worked_, it hadn't worked for two days, why would it now?

_Keelah, I hate my life_...

"Hard day?"

Grumbling, Tali raised her head, finding Garrus seated before her. His body language suggested Kelly wasn't around, he was less...tense then, yet Tali still glanced left and right for a sight of the redhead...relieved when she realised her first impression was the correct one. Kelly was..._nice_...but annoying in her overzealous caring...not to mention she by now turned Garrus into a stammering moron half the time.

"I see _you've_ recovered well..." Tali gritted, glaring at the Turian.

"Well..." Garrus cocked his head to the side, chuckling. "...all thanks to the care of a good woman." He snickered at her, amused. "In that perspective I'm feeling quite _sorry_ for Michael..."

"Are you saying I'm _not_ a...!" Tali clamped her mouth shut, before she said something she'd regret. She continued through gritted teeth. "I hold _you_ partially responsible for what happened, you know..."

"Me? I didn't do any touching." Garrus chuckled, then looked...pensive, as he turned his head away. "Look, don't be too harsh on him, he was just...being nice to me, all right?"

Tali cocked her head to the side, curious about what she saw as Garrus shifted, uneasy. He looked...hurt, but accepting of it...and just a little...at peace.

She wasn't used to seeing _that_ in him. _Huh_...

Judging her silence as disbelief, the Turian shrugged and continued, looking exasperated. "Look, I, _we_, have been through a _lot_ of crap...I needed venting and relaxing...and I kind of think _he_ did too." His stance showed nothing but honest belief in what he said. "So yes, we got a bit too drunk, I admit...but come on..." He turned back at her, looking a little irritated. "...give him a _little_ leeway, I mean, he's been bending over backwards for you for some time now..."

"I...yes..." Tali looked away, irritated with herself, knowing far too well how careful Michael had been around her. He'd been teasing, yes, _infuriating_, yes...but it had always been a careful balance, a wish to try to make it as it used to be, without daring to push her too much. She was _painfully_ aware of how careful he had been in trying to mend the damage while _she_...well...hadn't done much at all, too...conflicted to help.

With that in mind...one step wrong wasn't all _that_ bad...and he _had_ been drunk...and she hadn't minded..._too_ much. _Eugh_..._I hate my hormonal body_..._because that's all it is, hormones, yes_...

"Besides, he needed to cop a feel." Blinking, Tali turned to stare at Garrus...and found him grinning. "What?"

Tali's hands bunched into fists on the table as she leaned forward. "You think he has a _right_ to..." She blinked once more, seeing movement in the corner of her eye...and turned her head, staring at the _thing_ suddenly sitting down at the other end of the table. "What are _you_ doing here?"

The machine, unfazed by the stares of half a dozen eating humans, along with a Turian and a Quarian, staring at him, moved to sit down. Then it looked over at her, the mechanical vibration of its voice making Tali shudder, _why_ Michael had spared it was beyond her. "Shepard-Commander has allowed us to observe human interaction aboard ship, as long as we do not approach any consoles, and while under supervision of an armed escort." It jabbed a finger back at the human behind it, the man looking somewhat nervous with his assault rifle pointed at it. _Just squeeze the trigger by accident, please_...

Shaking her head in exasperation, Tali sat back down, cradling her head as best she could with her helmet being in the way. _Why_? _Why did he spare it_! _It's probably subtly hacking EDI as we speak_..._or preparing to kidnap and sell Michael to the Collectors, or maybe simply spying so they'll know our weaknesses when we hit the Collectors_...

_Idiot,_ _Michael_...

"So..." One of the humans at the table, private Tucker if Tali remember correctly, broke the somewhat awkward silence. "...you're here to...watch us eat?"

"Partially correct." Legion –_ ugh, can't believe EDI named the thing_ – replied, its gaze making the man squirm in his seat...though the machine didn't seem to notice. "While consumption of food is important data in its own right, since organics spend much time doing so, it is also of interest that they prepare food that almost always isn't optimal for their system. We find _that, _in particular, a point of interest also." Tali sighed, shaking her head. _And now it's nestling in among the crew_... "We, however, are also observing cross-organic interaction, such as what's occurring at this table."

"You're...eavesdropping?" Another human, Lily, asked with a shake of her dark head.

"Eavesdropping would suggest you are not aware of us sitting here, able to hear you." The machine cocked its head at the human, almost looking..._puzzled_. Tali shuddered at the sight. _Abomination_... "We seek to understand, therefore we listen."

Tucker chuckled, the human looking a little braver as he leant closer, fascinated by the Geth. _Stupid humans and their curiosity, will get us all killed_... "You listen to small talk? What's the point of that?"

Again the machine cocked its head to the side, eye glowing. _And now it's trying to imitate our behaviour_..._replace us_... "That is what we are trying to determine." All along the table eyebrows shot up. "The conversations seem to be a waste of energy, data is shared, but largely about information already known, or what most organics would judge useless. Yet you spend an inordinate time on it, clearly it's _not_ pointless to _you_."

There were shared looks of confusion around the table, the human that so far had remained quiet, Josh, laughing nervously. "M-maybe we're j-just trying t-to be social..."

The Geth turned to look at the man, heedless of the way he flinched from its unnatural gaze. "Social? It is a difficult term for us Geth, it is more subtle with organics." A strange stuttering sound reverberated from its chest, the thing thinking. "Is it...confirmation of other unit existinging? A continuing signal? We would understand that."

Tali shook her head, snarling. "You _can't_ understand, and we're _nothing_ alike."

Silence, the others looking over at her, but Tali ignored them in favour of glaring at the..._thing_! It looked back with the same cold glare...unfazed, cold and dead machinery, _despicable_. "We are unlike you, yes, but that does not exclude understanding; understanding that may make coexistence possible." She snorted at it...and Legion turned its head towards Garrus. "The Turian, Garrus Vakarian on a Cerberus vessel proves this. Turians and humans were once at war, now they are allies, both are now stronger."

"Hey..." Garrus raised his hands, looking uncomfortable. "Don't drag me into this...I'm just here for Michael's sake."

"As are we." Legion concluded, not sounding pleased or..._anything_, it was just facts to the Geth, it _all_ was...nothing but cold, unrelenting _facts_. _Sick creatures_... "Cooperation with him will further all, we have faith in this."

Tali frowned at the machine. _Again about the faith_..._I don't like that_..._it's trying to emulate us to trick us_...

The humans, less familiar with the Geth, didn't react to the machine's curious choice of words though, in fact Lily was looking curious. "So...can we ask you questions then?"

"We will answer as much as we can." The machine nodded, plates around its eye twitching.

_As much as we can_... Tali grimaced at that. She hadn't told Michael about it...but Geth were...uncomfortable about lying. It wasn't a moral standpoint, they _had_ no morals, but to them something either was...or it wasn't, it was the basis of their existence. Not that they weren't capable of deception or even outright _lying_...but it was..._difficult_ for them. So Tali had for _obvious_ reasons chosen not to tell Michael about it, he put too much trust into it already by not blowing it up...he wouldn't understand the danger if she told him such facts about the Geth nature.

"So...you're kind of several people, or programs?" Lily finally dared, the human looking unsure. "So...which one _speaks_?"

"We are one thousand one hundred and eighty-three programs in this platform, each one cannot be equalized to a person, however. We find consensus before speaking, you are speaking to all programs, but one...'mind'."

"Lots of voices arguing with one another...sounds much like us." Tucker quipped, chuckling.

Lily shot him a smirk. "Maybe like _you_..."

The man, taken off guard, didn't reply, making Lily's smirk widen...while Josh hesitated before opening his mouth. "A-and wh-what's witht the a-armour? Isn't th-that...Shepard's?"

Tali straightened, as did Garrus, neither had dared ask, thinking it was Michael's question to put to the machine...and neither really dared to hear the answer. But now they were listening..._intently_.

The Geth hesitated, eye moving down to look down at the repaired damage with it's N7 logo. It looked back up at Josh...and the man was visibly sweating as it held his gaze, not yet replying.

Finally, it nodded. "Yes."

Tali couldn't stop herself. "Where did you get that, anyway?"

Again, the machine hesitated, and Tali narrowed her eyes at it. _You plan to lie_..._or is it something else_? "Alchera, it was where Shepard-Commander was killed, where we found this piece of his armour, but nothing else." For a moment it looked like Legion was going to add something...but then it just sat there. It almost looked..._uncomfortable_.

"I know of that place, it's nothing but snow and rocks there." Tucker frowned. "Who the hell shot you there?"

"We...were not shot there, we were investigating Eden Prime when we were ambushed, resulting in the damage to our platform." Legion admired, making Tali narrow her eyes even further. _That makes no sense_...

"Yeah, I'm not surprised they took a shot at you." Lily noted with a shrug. _And already they are accustomed to the thing_..._humans_. "So...you had the piece with you then, or...?"

"No." Legion replied, armoured plates around its eye clacking against it, almost nervously. "We were following Shepard-Commander's trail, retracing his steps, we visited Alchera after all other planets he had been at." It gestured for the piece of armour welded to it. "This was all we found..."

"Wait..." Garrus spoke up, frowning. "...that took a while, didn't it? Reaching Alchera when you had to go through all the other planets first?"

"One year, two hundred and eleven days and four hours." Legion offered, making Tali's eyes widen.

She shook her head even as Tucker spoke, confused. "Wait...you got _shot_...and waited _that_ long to repair the damage?"

"There..." Legion actually _stuttered_! "...was a hole."

Tali found herself leaning forward, growling. "Yet you choose _not_ to repair it until then, and with a piece of armour _unfit_ to properly cover the hole...you...a _Geth_...did something _illogical_." She felt a cold shiver run down her spine at that...a shiver instantly replaced by hot anger as she glared at the creature, ancestral hatred pumping in her veins. "_Why_?"

"There was a hole..." Was all Legion managed, the machine's voice slightly dimmed, as if it couldn't process her question.

_Maybe it can't_... Watching with a mixture of fascination and glee Tali saw Josh shake his head. "B-but why not repair i-it on E-Eden P-Prime? O-or the next p-planet?"

Inside Legion there was the stuttering sound of many programs thinking as one...and then its voice, low, _uncertain_. "No...data available."

"Huh? What do you mean?" Lily asked, confused. "I mean you must have had a _reason_..."

"No data..." Legion shook its head...and Tali watched with fascination as its hands, so far having rested atop the table...closed into fists. Y_es, go ahead, go berserk, give us a reason to put you down_... Her hand moved underneath the table, finding her pistol.

Tucker shook his head though, not accepting the answer. "Yeah? And why not something else? Something covering the _entire_ hole? Not to mention something that hasn't been all burnt and cracked...?"

"We...have no data..." Legion looked away, the machine almost sounding pained. _Oh, are you experiencing an error message_? _Good_. "We request a new topic."

The humans exchanged glances, clearly worried about the tension in Legion's voice, ready to agree to the request._ Oh no you don't_... Tali leant closer. "No, Legion, answer the question. You think we're just going to _accept_ that you've been chasing Michael for the last two years and gone so far as to weld a piece of his suit to you? You things _never_ do anything illogical, what's your angle? What are you trying to do?"

A clacking of its armoured plates against its eye, the fists tightening... _Come on, come on_..._do_ _it_... "We..." Hesitation, the innards of the machine faltering. "...request a new topic..."

"And I _request_ you answer the question." Tali snarled, eyes narrowing in distrust. _You're hiding something_...

Before her, Legion hesitated. "Request..." Its voice petered out as it looked left and right, almost looking..._trapped_.

Tali's demand was but a snarl. "_Now_."

Silence.

_Tense_ silence.

And then the machine rose in one smooth movement, making the soldier behind it jump back, nearly shooting it in fright. _Damn, almost got you_... Looking up at the machine, Tali waited, curious about its answer. "Continued exchange...is of little worth." There was a stutter within the machine, then it looked away. "We will study organic interaction...elsewhere."

It didn't say anything more, it simply turned and left for the elevator, oblivious to the soldier following it with his weapon nearly jabbing it in the back.

Tali watched it go, eyes still narrowed at the retreating thing. _I will figure you out before you get anyone killed, you won't hurt hi_- She growled at herself ..._us_.

Then, as if sensing her thoughts, she heard _him_ come. Scowling, Tali chose to ignore the familiar sound of his footsteps, instead turning back to her food, now cold and even more inedible then before, her hand moving to free her eating-straw as she stared at _it_...and _not_..._him_.

Garrus' voice was distant, but a welcome distraction, carrying a hint of disapproval. "I know it's a machine...but that was a bit mean..."

"I'm surprised hearing that from _you_." Tali looked up at Garrus, shaking her head. "How many of those didn't _you_ destroy back when we fought Saren? They're a _blight_, and that thing..." She looked back at the space where Legion had disappeared to. "...is a _cancer_ among us."

Garrus opened his mouth to speak, but Michael was quicker. "I'd almost forgotten how angry you could get..." She whipped her head round to glare at him...and found her anger softening at the sight of him awkwardly rubbing the back of his head. "...though I guess I _shouldn't_ be..._especially_ after...heh...erm..._yeah_..."

The corner of Tali's lip twitched, making her draw a deep breath of exasperation. _Damn him_... "What..." She grunted, clearing her throat from the obstruction that had turned her voice into a whisper...and forced herself to ignore Garrus' snicker. "...do you want?"

"I..." Michael looked painfully awkward, still rubbing the back of his head. He looked ashamed, needy..._penitent_...and Tali found her heart doing a little somersault...and she knew she would forgive him. _Dammit_... Shifting, Michael hesitated, his eyes on her, shy, ignoring the slight titter of the others at the table. "...could I...talk to you?"

Tali looked down at the floor, her heart beating painfully in her ribcage, ignoring her anger, her decision, her _sense_...and she nodded, struggling not to smile. "Sure..." Coming to her feet she moved to join Michael...and felt her face flush when she heard the snickering of those behind her.

_Dammit_...

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_Thanks to Abydos Jackson for putting up with me._


	43. Chapter 43

Miranda felt...hesitant.

Which was ridiculous, it really was.

Standing calmly in the elevator as it brought her down to Engineering, Miranda found herself frowning, disliking what she was about to do. Which didn't make much sense, her instructions had been clear as crystal from day one; keep Shepard focused on the target, assist him in completing his objective, and remove anything that might impede him or distract him.

And Miranda _always_ got the job done.

Yet now...it felt uncomfortable to execute her orders.

It wasn't as if she actually _owed_ Michael anything, or _cared_ for him...or that she couldn't handle his disapproval or outright _anger_. Yet for some reason something was tugging at her, wanting her to stop, to ignore the issue, to _fail_...it was...agitating.

_I'm doing this __for__ him, damn it_.

She nodded to herself, irritated with the lack of conviction in her thought.

_For both of them even_.

With a shudder, the elevator came to a stop, the door sliding open with a hiss of hydraulics. Moving out and taking a sharp turn to the left, Miranda took a deep breath.

_I can do this_.

She _could_, she knew that, and holding onto that core of steel within her...she pushed the doubts aside.

Ahead, the door slid open, revealing the backs of Donnelly and Daniels, the two engineers calmly working at their stations, doing maintenance by the looks of their holographic screens. The fact that both were quiet, meant that they were _properly_ focused on the job, for _once_.

Absently nodding in satisfaction at their diligent work, Miranda's gaze was drawn to the left, to the other side of the Engineering room.

Tali didn't seem to have noticed Miranda, and since Michael was busy over by the galaxy map – something Miranda had made sure to check before going down – she wasn't distracted from her console in favour of talking to him. Though Tali's hands were still moving over the controls somewhat lazily, faster then most humans, sure, but no where _near_ what a Quarian engineer should be capable of.

_I __should__ do this_. Miranda nodded, steeling herself further. Moving closer to Donnelly and Daniels, she cleared her throat.

Instantly the two spun, coming to attention, eyes straight ahead and right hand jabbing up in a salute. _Good, discipline has improved_. Miranda didn't show any pleasure at the sight though, her frown never leaving her face as she shot Tali a glance, looked back to the two saluting engineers...and jerked her head back towards the door behind her.

The two engineers exchanged a confused look...and Miranda's frown deepened as her head repeated the gesture.

That got the message through, the two swiftly moved past her, beating a hasty retreat.

_And so we're alone_...

Miranda felt that irritating jab of hesitation again...and swiftly crushed it. Instead, she embraced the hard steel within her that had kept her out of her father's clutches for the majority of her life, that had helped her do the horrific things she sometimes had to do to get results for Cerberus, the steel that drove her on when all else failed...

She didn't have to _like_ it, she just had to _do_ it.

The Quarian hadn't even noticed the other engineers leaving, Tali's eyes firmly rooted on her console as her hands moved over them in what almost looked like lazy patterns. _Inefficient, I'm doing the right thing_.

Still, Miranda found her steps small and hesitant as she approached Tali, suddenly unsure how to begin.

As she got closer she could see that Tali's head was ever so slightly nodding back and forth, her silver eyes half-closed as looked down at her work...and a strange sound emanating from her. Blinking, Miranda realised that Tali was _humming_ to herself...in fact the melody seemed cheerful and carefree, something Miranda hadn't associated the Quarian with before.

And Miranda grimaced, knowing all too well _why_ the Quarian was uncharacteristically happy, it was a small ship after all...and people talked. As such, even _Miranda_ had heard of Michael having taken Tali aside to apologise for something...a woman coming from the bathroom had even eavesdropped apparently. It was annoying how many of the crew had expressed _disappointment_ in that the conversation between the two hadn't become _more_ than just an apology...

Obviously the mended rift between the two was enough to put the Quarian in a _great_ mood though...and considering what many of the crew seemed to expect of the Commander and her...Miranda could no longer ignore it and the danger such distractions could pose. _It's bad enough with the Turian and that xeno-lover, at least Kelly isn't on the ground team and is about as useful as a used tissue_...

Raising a hand to her mouth Miranda loudly cleared her throat.

Tali jumped at the nearby sound, jerked from her trance as her humming ceased and her head turned to look at Miranda with wide eyes...eyes narrowing as she realised who was facing her. "Oh...you." Turning the Quarian offered a near minuscule nod, her voice a displeased drone. "Miss Lawson."

The hostility, surprisingly, didn't really help, Miranda was _used_ to hostility by now...from Tali as well as most others...it was the _normal_ situation. _At least this conversation can't change her disposition for the worse_. Miranda offered a minuscule nod in turn. "Tali'Zorah." She hesitated. _Or rather, it probably will_..._well_..._can't_ _be_ _helped_.

"Was there something you wanted...?" The Quarian gestured at her computer. "Otherwise I'll get back to work."

"Yes...I can tell you're..." Miranda let the words linger, letting the steel within her turn her voice to the proper level of a displeased tone. "...busy."

"Right." Tali crossed her arms over her chest, leaning back on the balls of her feet. "I'm sensing some disapproval...or are you just here to point out the obvious in a snarky tone?"

_Why you little_... Miranda scowled at the Quarian, almost taken off guard, having forgotten the sharp tongue of the alien. She kept her tone level, however. "It's just...you don't seem to be working very...diligently."

Tali scoffed, shaking her head. "That's it? I work three more hours a day then the other engineers on this ship, that is, when I'm _not_ on the ground. My efficiency is a hundred and thirty five percent that of Kenneth's..._and_ I'm doing this as an unpaid _volunteer_."

"True." Miranda nodded, well aware of such facts, and prepared for them. "Yet you are capable of more, and aren't giving it, we need everyone working at a hundred percent here."

Silence, the Quarian staring at Miranda...then shaking her head as she gestured at the console. "It's _maintenance_ work...I'm _far_ ahead of _schedule_ on it..." Then a snort, a smirk in Tali's voice. "...or do you wish me to render your _human_ engineers...obsolete..._Cerberus_?"

Miranda found her eye twitching in annoyance. She wasn't about to claim humans were superior to aliens in all matters. Asari biotics were far better for instance, but to have a _vagrant_ of an _alien_ insult _humans_... She took a deep breath, calming herself, forcing herself to speak the words she didn't want to. "I just wonder if you're not working at full capacity due to certain distractions..."

The Quarian's arms unfolded as she leant forth to reply...only to hesitate. "I...don't know what you're talking about."

Now it was Miranda's turn to cross her arms over her chest. "I think you do, in fact, I think you know _exactly_ what I'm talking about." She paused, letting the words sink in. "Commander Shepard is a busy man, with lots of duties, and you have yours as well, but his constant visits are distracting both him and you from your jobs."

Silence. Then Tali spoke, growing anger in her voice. "_He_ visits _me_, as you said, if you think that's such a big issue you should take it up with _him_." There was a growl within the helmet. "Though _personally_, I think this isn't any of your business and that you should butt out, _now_."

"My job is to _ensure_ efficiency, it _is_ my business." Miranda retorted, unwilling to retreat, knowing far too well that between the two Tali was the one you should verbally attack if you wanted things to change. "And I'm coming to you since I wish you to _stop_ encouraging him."

"_Encouraging_!" There was something akin to an explosive laugh escaping the Quarian...that swiftly died out as her eyes narrowed, defiance in her voice. "No, this _isn't_ any of your business, what Michael and I do when we have some free time is _our_ business...now _please_ leave..." It _didn't_ sound like a request.

D_amn, I'm making her __more__ set on pursuing this_..._abnormality_. Miranda frowned, suppressing the sudden jab of guilt as she decided to change to a more efficient tactic. "I will not let efficiency drop, _especially_ when it can get the Commander _killed_."

Tali moved to point at Miranda...only to go still mid-movement, her head twitching ever so slightly to the side. "That...won't happen." She sounded uncertain. _Good_.

"Won't it? Perhaps it will just get _you_ killed then? Or someone else on the crew?" Miranda pushed the subject, glaring at the Quarian. "This isn't about maintenance, this is about being distracted and possibly acting illogically during combat due to emotions."

"I...can't imagine Michael doing that..." Tali muttered, stepping backwards and Miranda _knew_ it was a lie.

"Can't you?" Miranda snarled. "Apparently he took the loss of one Ashley Williams quite hard, you wish to repeat that? He also left you to guard Garrus Vakarian at the battle of the Citadel as he went on ahead. The _smart_ choice would have been to _leave_ the Turian and go on with you for some extra support, he didn't...and so risked the _galaxy _due to him caring for Garrus' safety." Miranda knew she had Tali now, the hesitation in the Quarian's stance all too obvious. "Isn't that so?"

"Garrus wouldn't _be_ here if I hadn't stayed there..." Tali muttered, voice petering out as her hands hung to her sides, looking dejected.

"Yes, but we are _all_ expendable when it comes to defeating the Reapers." Miranda snarled. "Michael fails to grasp that, and it will be even _harder_ for him to make the _right_ calls if feelings are involved."

"You sound like the Reapers..." Tali murmured weakly, apparently not knowing what to say. "...all expendable? What then differs them from us...?"

Miranda pushed the question aside, knowing it was silly, they were _nothing_ like the Reapers... "Don't you try, you _know_ I'm right, from _personal_ experience no less."

The Quarian visibly stiffened, unable to reply.

"Don't you think Cerberus knows about at least _some_ of you Quarians' operations?" Miranda pushed, moving her face into a mask of anger as she coldly forced the issue, dedicated to pushing Tali until she relented. "Haestrom wasn't the _first_ of _your_ operations...how many Quarians died there? Elsewhere? You know _fully_ well what making the _wrong_ calls do..."

There was no answer, the Quarian standing stiffly before her, shaking.

And Miranda shook her head, snarling. "How many died because _you_ cared too much about their lives and tried to _protect_ them...only to do the _opposite_? How many did you get killed because _you_ hesitated to give the orders _needed_...?"

The Quarian shook all the more violently, a strange hissing sound, perhaps a sob, escaping her.

_No_ _mercy_. Miranda pushed on, taunting the Quarian. "Or do you actually consider Quarian lives _less_ valuable then Michael's? Perhaps you actually had _no_ problem sending them to their deaths? _Perhaps_..."

That's when Tali punched her.

Miranda saw it. She saw the Quarian's right hand curl into a fist and pull back, saw that Tali's shaking wasn't out of grief but of _anger_...she saw the fist come flying... She could have blocked it, _should_ have...she was taller, stronger and well trained in close quarter combat, it would have been easy dodging such an uncoordinated attack of anger.

Yet she didn't, her brain not quite able to comprehend that the far shorter and thinner little engineer was actually throwing a _punch_ at her...

Then she found herself falling backwards, sitting down hard on the grilled floor as, a moment later, her left eye exploded with a throbbing pain.

"_Ouch_!" Miranda blinked, hand shooting up to press against the throbbing eye as the other looked up at Tali in shock, still unable to quite make sense of what had happened. "You _hit_ me!"

"One." Tali stepped forward, finger raised as she leant towards Miranda. "_I_ was at the Citadel, _I_ was among those rescuing the galaxy! You were _not_ and have _no_ right to judge _anything_ we did back there!"

"B-"

"Two." Another finger came up, the Quarian coming closer. "I am Tali'Zorah Vas Neema and if you _ever_ speak so disrespectfully to me again I'll show you just _how_ dangerous a distraction I can be!"

"Wh-"

"Three!" The Quarian moved closer, her third finger shooting up. "You will _never_ speak of those who died under my command _ever_ again! You have no _right_!"

"I-"

Tali's other hand shot forth, grabbing Miranda's hair and yanking it painfully as the three fingers of her remaining hand closed into a fist that shook in rage mere inches from Miranda's wide-eyed face. Tali's voice was but a heated hiss. "Is that _understood_?"

Miranda looked up at Tali, blinking away the tears of pain threatening to burst forth as she glared back, reluctantly impressed even as she tried to come up with a proper retort. _Still have to get her to stop distracting_...

"What's going on here?" ..._Michael_..._shit_.

Tali released Miranda's hair and stepped back, though her hands remained closed into fists as she kept glaring down at the human. Her voice was dripping with venom as she spoke. "Just me and Miranda having a conversation about the _proper_ respect for the dead, Michael."

Dusting herself off, Miranda rose, struggling to come up with a way out of the situation. "She struck me, Commander." She turned her head, looking at Michael...who was sternly staring back at them, looking _very_ displeased. "I was just expressing my concerns that she was distracting you from your mission and endangering the mission...I didn't wish to involve you, sir."

For the briefest of moments Michael hesitated, then the stern look came back, now _solely_ focused on Miranda. "And this made her hit you?"

"I...no, Commander, or only...partially." Miranda admitted, finding herself caught between the stern look of Michael and Tali's glare at her back. "I might have given her examples of when acting on emotions gets people killed, examples that were, I admit, a bit too close to heart. But that is _no_ excuse to-"

Miranda's voice died out as Michael's eyes visibly darkened in anger. "_What_ deaths?"

"I..." Miranda swallowed, finding herself unable to continue.

Tali's voice was as dark as Michael's eyes as she volunteered the information. "Ashley's, Quarian marines..."

Before them, the Commander's face visibly twitched, the darkness _growing_. "Miranda, my quarters."

_Dammit, this isn't how it was supposed to go_! "Commander, I really must prote-"

"_Now_."

Miranda found her legs moving, not heeding her own commands as they moved past Michael, the man swiftly moving up next to her as he escorted her to the elevator.

The door to it opened...and somehow the atmpsphere got even _tenser_ as it closed behind them.

Silence.

The hum of the elevator.

Miranda swallowed, finding herself sweating.

_This is ridiculous_...

She turned, mouth opening.

Michael didn't even look at her, his face turning into an angry scowl, silencing her even before he spoke. "No talking."

With a thump the elevator came to a stop, the doors opening.

Moving first, Michael moved into the room, Miranda trailing her, feeling...small. The wall to the left was nearly nothing but a vast aquarium, the fishes there carefree as they swam around. The desk in the far right corner was still polished, though several electronic readers now lay on it, and the couch just at her right didn't even looked used...clearly Michael didn't use the room for much besides work and sleep.

Turning as he reached the bed, Michael sat down on it, gesturing for the couch while he fixed Miranda with a stern look on his face. "Sit down."

"Commander, I really don't-"

"_Sit_."

Miranda sat down.

"Now..." Michael leant forward where he sat, elbows resting on his legs as he rested his chin on his hands. "...let me make one thing clear. Every single member of this ground team is a _volunteer_, that means they are under our command by _their_ choice. They deserve great respect and gratitude, they should _not_, under _any_ circumstances, be _insulted_."

"Sir-"

"I will _not_ see myself loosing parts of the team because you cannot stretch yourself to be _pleasant_, never mind _polite_." Michael continued, heedless of Miranda's attempts to get a word in edgewise. "Nor can I, as a good soldier, _ever_ accept someone speaking disrespectfully of fallen soldiers." Michael's eyes blazed at that...and Miranda found her throat dry up. "It is dishonourable, pathetic and in the Alliance such a behaviour would have led to a few marines quietly dragging you into a dark corner for a _proper_ beating."

"We are not _in_ the Alliance..." Miranda snorted as best she could, though the words sounded hollow in her ears.

Silence.

Michael regarded her, the fire in his eyes shifting into something cold, something calculating, something _chilling_...

He leant backwards, regarding her. "I am considering the possibility of dropping you off at the next port and going on without you, Miss Lawson." _What_! "But I'm...willing to give you a...second chance..._if_ you ask for it."

"I...you can't..." Miranda blinked, utterly confused. "The Illusive man _assigned_ me to this ship, to _you_, you can't just throw me off! This is a _Cerberus_ ship!"

"Is it?" Michael once more leaned forward, something vicious in his eyes. "The ground team has joined because of _me_, their loyalty is to _me_, don't you think I would be able to take the ship with them? Jacob might be Cerberus but even _he_ would likely join me if it came to it...he's too good of a man to support Cerberus when it comes down to it."

Miranda's throat tightened, her eyes widening with the frightening possibilities Michael spoke of...unable to reply.

"And that's even _if_ things came to blows." Michael continued, the tiniest of smiles at the corner of his lips as he regarded her. "You've read their files, and I've talked to them...almost the entire crew is former Alliance, men and women who left because of _me_, who joined Cerberus and this ship because of _me_..."

_Oh_ _God_...

"We might be allies with Cerberus..." Michael coldly spoke. "...but this is _my_ ship."

Miranda just stared at him, unsure if she was supposed to be horrified...or _impressed_.

Silence.

Then Michael leant forward, gaze boring into her. "Have I made myself clear...?"

Miranda couldn't speak, she could only nod.

"Good." Michael rose, gesturing for the door, face once more stern. "Now get out of my sight."

And Miranda left, cowed.

_I_..._don't_ _think_ _I'll_ _report_ _this_...

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_Thanks to Abydos Jackson for her appreciation._


	44. Chapter 44

It was quiet in the shuttle.

Quiet and..._thick_, unspoken thoughts and hostility lingering in the air.

Michael was well aware of that, in a way...he had planned it.

Not that there was anything _planned_ about their detour...Michael frowned at the floor where he sat in the shuddering transport. He was not happy with the Illusive man's...suggestion – _fun how they always seem to turn into __orders_ – but had none the less changed course. From Tuchanka to help Grunt and Mordin off the list Michael and Miranda had put up for the ground team...the list allowing each member one favour, one thing to put their affairs in order...to Aite of all places. He wasn't happy about it...in fact he had considered not doing it...but the thought of more crazy Cerberus experiments on the loose was worrying enough to warrant a detour.

There was little information to go on. The Illusive Man had obviously not wanted to reveal more than necessary, if there was just a downed transmitter on the base the team would leave, after all, and the untrustworthy Shepard would be none the wiser of what went on down there...

_Yes, because Cerberus operations usually hit __small__ snags_...

He rolled his eyes, already having decided to treat it as a proper mission. While vague, the Illusive Man had said it was for researching VI's...and Michael had already too much experience with crazy mechs not to expect a bloodbath... _As long as they're still crappy shots it'll be okay_...

So he had decided to help out, all the time reminding himself he was _not_, in fact, working for Cerberus.

He didn't like that he had to repeat that several times to believe it.

Opposite him sat Tali, the Quarian looking...unfocused, unsure where to look first in the passenger area.

Naturally, she was shooting hostile and suspicious glares Legion's way, despite the Geth sitting perfectly still in the far corner, docile as a kitten...a kitten with its wrists held together by manacles. Michael wasn't about to trust it either, but considering how cooperative it had been he thought it at least deserved a _little_ credit. Not many would agree to go to a potentially hostile area without a gun and with your hands manacled. _Then again, not many are computer programs with a backup_.

Michael was unsure whether Tali was glaring at Legion as much as she was Miranda however, the other woman in the shuttle apparently not noticing the scathing looks as she stared down at the floor, frowning and occasionally throwing Legion a glance. She had been muted as of late...but when Michael had decided to test Legion's reliability on the field on a Cerberus facility she had strongly protested, as expected...but the moment Michael had told her he understood her concern but his decision was final she had relented...and not spoken a word of it since.

In fact, now that he thought about it...the looks she threw Legion weren't really hostile, rather introvert and bemused...

Clearly Michael had rattled her...but at least she wasn't holding a grudge as far as he could tell, she was just..._thinking_.

Then there were the looks Tali threw him...the ones making him tense where he sat. Every time she did it there was a slight cock to her head, as if she was trying to figure something out. Michael had also noticed that she usually glanced at Miranda after giving him one of those looks. Whatever Miranda had told Tali...she was still thinking about it...and Michael found himself worrying about that, but unable to voice his concern.

Of course...she saw that...and that made her eyes linger all the more on him...making him see that she was thinking even deeper about whatever Miranda had said...which in turn made him _more_ nervous. Yet she wanted to calm him, not worry him, he could see that much...and that _did_ soothe him a little.

It was strange...but for the last day or so they seemed to have been holding a conversation without even speaking.

Michael looked away from her, trying to focus on the mission.

There was just the four of them, the rest of the team waiting in orbit, and Michael had a reason for it. Tali and Legion were both excellent techs – which was likely needed for the mission – Legion needed to be tested...and Tali could keep track of Legion for treason like no other. Miranda would be needed to offer any Cerberus codes...and honestly, Michael thought she needed to get out of the ship and get something more tangible done.

There was another reason for the selection as well. Tali and Legion were no doubt hostile towards one another, as well as Tali and Miranda...not to mention _none_, not even _Michael_, trusted Legion... It was a powder keg ready to explode if it was left alone...but if they were to beat the Collector's they had to be a _team_... So Michael was determined to see that these obstacles would be overcome...and what better way then to work together on a mission to form bonds of, if not trust, then at least _respect_?

So down the team went towards the Cerberus facility, somewhat ready to use their combined skills in scouting ahead to take stock of the situation...and if things hit the fan...as it had a tendency to do with Cerberus...the rest of the team would come down, guns blazing.

_Hopefully it won't come to that_... Michael got up as he felt the shuttle come to a stop..and smirked at himself, knowing the hope was likely foolish.

Around him the others rose as well, Tali and Miranda both guardedly watching Legion...who calmly stood at the ready despite its bound hands.

Then the door opened...and Michael leapt out, assault rifle panning left and right even as he realised that EDI's sensors had been correct. There was no one on the landing platform, it was quiet...eerily quiet. Michael smirked again, not about to be intimidated by a lack of people, for all he knew they could be busy repairing whatever damage the base might have suffered. "Huh? No one to greet us? How rude."

"There is no sign of combat." Miranda noted as she stepped out beside him, her eyes narrowing in the glaring sun. "Though EDI detected only low energy emissions from the base, or any movement...it's as if they shut everything down and left."

"Considering who they work for, I wouldn't put it past them." Tali acidly remarked, earning her a glance from Miranda...and then shrugged and belatedly added. "Though I doubt that's what happened."

Lowering his rifle, Michael looked left and right, finding himself suddenly smiling. For all the bickering of the team...they did so in a amazing environment. Though the building was the cold steel of a Cerberus base the area around the landing pad, as far as the eye could see...was nothing but vibrant jungle and distant rivers. _Beautiful_..._at times you almost forget to see it_...

Then Legion interrupted his thoughts as the machine dropped onto the landing pad, head tracking left to right. "Security camera of door is active, it is a secondary system, power failure of the base is therefore unlikely."

Letting the smile linger, Michael looked back to the building ahead, finding the base ahead rise up, casting an ominous shadow over them. Flanking the tower-like structure that was the entrance to the primary Cerberus facility were two grey towers topped by domed caps from which large cannons projected out, a defence against incoming enemy ships...that fortunately had been found offline when EDI had scanned the base. More interesting, however, was the fact that Legion was correct. The automatic door ahead was closed, looking deactivated...yet the camera just above it was moving, a green light glowing within it as it tracked the team.

"Selective deactivation of systems..." Tali murmured, matching Michael's thoughts. "...I don't like this."

"Weapons out. Advance." Michael ordered, already moving forward as he heard the two women at his back draw their weapons and follow, Legion obediently trailing behind them. Michael switched on the radio. "This is Shepard, we're deployed, suspecting hostile activity and investigating. I want the second team ready to deploy on a moment's notice, got it?"

Jacob's voice crackled in the com-link, sounding calm. "Got it, Commander..." Then tenser. "Sir...there's some sort of interference with the radio I..." _Tenser_. "EDI's detecting an energy surge at _your_ location!"

Behind them the shuttle shuddered as it took off, the pilot steering it up towards the Normandy. While they had a second one on the ship two would help with deployment of the second team...

Then there was a bright light...and high above them the base was engulfed in a dome of blue lights consisting of glowing hexagons...even as the turret on the right swung round, its massive gun aiming after the shuttle. _That's for large ships in orbit, it can't __possibly__ track_...

A thump...and the shuttle exploded, the round striking it, _obliterating_ it, leaving nothing but shreds falling down onto the landing pad. _Or maybe it can_... Looking back to the turret, Michael found its barrel smoking...but otherwise saw no motion, as if the turret had once more deactivated, content with its kill. "Jacob, the team's okay, but the shuttle is scrap, status?"

It was EDI replying. "Shepard, the Cerberus facility is effectively shielded from landing by the barrier it put up...it is also broadcasting invasive transmissions that is...worrying me."

Michael frowned. "Worrying you?"

"I can't explain it." EDI replied, almost sounding..._pained_. "If I start to analyse the transmitted information I might offer you more information. However, I find what little I read...disturbing to my sensors...I get the distinct impression that even with firewalls up it would be hazardous to actively go through the information."

"Then don't." Michael frowned, remembering all too well the crazy mechs that had been infected by a malfunctioning VI...and if something like that was on Aite...trying to attack EDI... "In fact, after this communication I want radio silence, don't even allow yourself to _receive_ signals, we'll signal by flares if we need pick-up."

"Sir." Jacob grunted, sounding irritated. "We cannot scan the base any more, but previous scans show that the power generators for the base are within it...and they're probably powering that shield..."

"And unless it's disabled you can't land reinforcements." Michael concluded, nodding as he calculated a plan. "Okay, we'll try to find out what's happening and knock out the generators, once they're down I want you to take the hammerhead and destroy any turrets on the base before preparing the shuttle to deploy or pick-up wherever we've deployed flares. Green for deploying second team, red for pick-up, got it?"

"Green for deployment, red for pick-up, got it."

"Good, Shepard out." Michael switched off the radio, signalling for the others to do likewise as he frowned. _So this __won't__ be a nice and easy mission to weld my team together_..._oh how lovely a plan falls apart_.

"This is a Geth shield." Legion's remark made Michael and the others turn, staring at the machine...and finding it looking up at the glowing blue orb they had been enveloped in. "Energy signature unmistakable, yet higher power is being used, it has been modified."

Tali's voice was a hostile hiss aimed at the machine. "Why would there be a _Geth_ shield here...?"

The machine looked back down, cold eye looking not at Tali...but at _Miranda_. "That is precisely what we want to know."

The Cerberus woman frowned and shrugged. "Do you think _I_ know? I know much of Cerberus operations, but not _everything_, only the Illusive man does so as to minimize security breaches."

"We accept your words, they are logical." Legion bowed its head ever so slightly, yet the armoured plates remained tight around its eye. "We, however, remain curious."

_You mean suspicious_... Michael turned back to the door. "It doesn't matter, as long as we stay here we won't find out what's going on."

"Correct." Legion replied. "We will follow Shepard-Commander."

"Great..." Michael murmured, gesturing the group to move up as he swiftly moved for the door ahead, conscious of the camera following their movement as they approached. _Should I shoot it to deprive whoever is watching from seeing us_? _Though they already know we are_..._and perhaps showing we have hostile intent already is a bad idea_..._though they __did__ shoot down our shuttle_. Shrugging Michael decided to ignore it...for now, it would make no difference at the moment.

Ahead, the door remained closed and decidedly deactivated...and Michael frowned as he tracked the slit of the double-door with his gun while nodding for Tali to approach. Activating her omni-tool the Quarian advanced on the door, ready to activate, or if necessary, _weld_ it open...

Only for it to activate on its own.

_What_...?

And then open.

Tali yelped, jumping back as something pressing up against the door fell forward...and Michael tracked the shape falling forth...before she dropped onto the floor with a wet thump.

It was a red-headed woman wearing the unmistakable uniform of Cerberus personnel...though her torso was now covered in dark blood...a gaping hole in her back. Her head was twisted at a disturbing angle, her mouth open in a wordless scream, eyes wide and glazed...and her hands, stretched out...with its fingers scratched bloody from clawing at the door.

_Well_..._that can't be good_.

Stepping forth, Michael raised his Revenant rifle, peering into the room ahead as the others shuffled back and forth in worry.

It was pitch black, save the odd flicker of light in those computer screens that hadn't been smashed...and the glow of the cameras in the corners of the room...not nearly enough to illuminate what, judging by the smell, wasn't pleasant. With a flick of his hands, Michael activated the lamp on his Revenant as well as his helmet, letting the powerful lights play across the room.

It was a scene of carnage.

The room was some sort of customs office, a set of stairs lead down to the room itself, a place whose walls were lined with various computer screens. Two long desks flanked a path leading to an open doorway; behind each stood several lockers, some gaping open.

There was another corpse on the stairs. This one a man, a bullet wound through his gut...and his broken arm flung the railing so that shattered bone showed; his face shredded by something claw-like, reminding Michael all too well of what Saren had done to Kaidan on Virmire.

Another man lay between the two long desks, his innards splayed across the floor as his torso lay a few feet from his legs. Despite that, his torso was stitched with a line of bullet-wounds, making Michael wonder if he had been shot before or after being torn in two. _Either way_..._it's strange_.

Dark shapes lay behind the desks, mercifully hidden behind the shadows of what they had once been seated behind. Yet a woman in the doorway further away was clearly visible...her head a gory mess as it lay in the open doorway, crushed by the doors, if the bloody splatter on them was any indication.

Michael felt annoyingly detached by the sight, he had seen such things before, _too_ many times...however brutal it was he couldn't help but look at it clinically. _One killed by the door_..._others both showing signs of being shot as well as being physically assaulted_..._either their enemy shot them and then ripped them apart_..._or they ripped them apart and __then__ shot them_. _Either way it is not something a mentally healthy person would do_. _I suspect the experiments went wrong then_..._though I have a hard time imagining __mech's__ capable of doing such damage to people, they can't really fight without their guns_...

"This is...disgusting." Miranda muttered, slowly following Michael into the room. "What kind of person kills people like this? It's sloppy and...insane."

"Bodies show unnecessary trauma, extranet sources indicate a strong probability of their assailant or assailants being mentally deficient." Legion concluded, sounding as if it was reciting nothing but facts...which it _was_ as far as it was concerned...though it still drew a disapproving growl from Tali. "However, mentally deficient people are unlikely to be able to hack Cerberus security network, which would be required to seal doors and deactivate lights."

"Or the VI of the base did it..." Michael muttered, finally pushing past the broken corpse on the stairs and finding himself on the main floor. "...they _were_ experimenting with VI's."

"Also a probability." Legion agreed. "However, a VI would not be creative enough to cause such variety of traumas to their enemies."

"Creative?" Tali echoed, snorting. "You disgust me."

"We were merely remarking upon the variety of damages to the dead. Destruction, however wrongful, can vary, and is therefore subject to creativity." Legion retorted, not sounding the least offended...which was probably _why_ Michael tensed even as Tali growled. The machine _sounded_ so lifelike...yet _wasn't_.

Shaking aside his shudder Michael moved on, gesturing for the others to quiet down. "We move on, tighten the formation."

And above he felt the cameras watch...

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_Thanks to Abydos Jackson for all she does._


	45. Chapter 45

"Geth!"

Michael dove for cover, stunned as a shower of pulse rifle shots whizzed over his head. _Geth attack_! _Has this place been taken over by Geth_!_ How did they even __find__ the place_! I_t's far from the veil and hidden from any sensors_...

They had entered a large dinning hall; a short set of stairs from the door they had come from lead down to the food court, the once white chairs and tables strewn around it were mostly knocked over by now. Shredded corpses lay where they had fallen, their food still untouched. Above the dinning hall itself, a large computer screen hung, no doubt to bother those eating with various announcements, now, however, it was black and dead.

Further ahead was the kitchen...and it was from there the Geth came; soldiers, snipers and even two Destroyers.

To Michael's left, Miranda was already behind a table, submachine gun coming up to stitch a clean line over one of the troopers jumping over the counter between the kitchen and the dinning area, dropping it onto the floor with a crunch. To his right, Tali's shield flared as she moved for her own cover, the answering bark of her shotgun tearing the head clean off another Geth.

Turning his head, Michael looked to Legion...and was almost surprised to find the machine also diving for cover, the low wall it found becoming scored with half a dozen shots as it crouched low, calmly waiting with its hands manacled.

_So_..._not_ _allies_ _then_?

Looking over the table he'd dropped behind, Michael found the other Geth advancing...and _curiously_ so. Normally the Geth moved from cover to cover with long and calm steps, covering one another with a constant stream of shots as they closed the distance. _These_, however, were _running_ forth, their shots haphazard at best, lacking any form of cooperation as they _threw_ themselves at the team.

And as they closed in their eyes blazed green.

_Green, white, whatever_. Michael stood up, Revenant moving from left to right, spraying high calibre bullets along the enemy 'line'. To his amazement the Geth didn't even try to dodge, some even throwing themselves right _at_ the bullets...their cries containing an odd screeching tone as they fell.

Three came straight at him though, shots pouring towards him, trying to force him backwards...and Michael kept low as he returned fire, not about to be forced back by the odd flicker of his shield. The first fell, chest breaking open with a loud crack, the next one's head exploded...yet it kept stumbling forward, screeching...and Michael wasted precious moments putting it down as the third pushed past the corpses and launched itself at him.

_Close_ _combat_!

Michael stared in wonder at the Geth, essentially a mobile gun-platform, as it dropped its rifle and jumped over his cover, metallic hands forming into claws as it lunged at his face.

Michael's rifle came up, held horizontally and he pushed down, knocking the reaching arms of his foe downwards even as he pivoted himself on the spot, letting the machine come to a stop as his rifle became wrapped around its neck. A twist...and it snapped, sending the machine tumbling to the floor.

And then it was over, the flood of Geth ending as swiftly as it began as the machines were swiftly torn apart in their frenzied attempts to crash into the team.

"What..." Michael turned, watching the others rise from their cover. "...the hell..." He pointed at the Geth lying at his feet. "...was _that_?"

"Geth, obviously." Tali replied, throwing Legion an accusing glare, despite that her tone held a lingering...doubt.

"Attack patterns are not of Geth make." Legion retorted, stepping closer to the fallen machine, looking down at it even as it offered its hands to Michael. "Shepard-commander, we would like to investigate."

"Alright..." Michael gripped the manacles, omni-tool glowing...and they came off Legion's wrists even as the two women of the team moved closer, Tali keeping her gun drawn as she looked down at Legion with narrowed eyes. "...so?"

Legion's lens grew as it looked over the fallen machine, its own omni-tool glowing as it moved it over the broken thing. "Composition of armour suggests Heretic origin."

"Convenient." Tali snorted...and reluctantly holstered her shotgun as Michael threw her a glance. _Calm_ _down_. "Shame though that I can't confirm that, could compare your armour with it, but that's not a..._trustworthy_ test."

"From your perspective, correct." Legion nodded. "However, these platforms used sub-par attack protocols. Heretics essentially use Geth protocols, you observed this too, did you not?"

"They were nuts...sure." Michael shrugged even as he frowned; something was _not_ right...

"Checking systems...internal components showing stress from electronic signals not adapted to platform's systems." Legion rambled...and Michael threw Tali a confused look.

Sighing, the Quarian knelt down next to Legion, her own omni-tool glowing. "Hmpf, you're right, hacked." She shook her head. "If these things were the ones killing the Cerberus crew they must have been hacked for some time."

"Impossible." Legion looked back to the Quarian, armoured plates shifting atop its eye. "Network self-adapts, deletes faulty files and rebalance systems, we cannot stay hacked for extensive periods of time."

"Oh really?" There was a cruel smirk in Tali's voice as she leant closer. "It looks pretty extensive from where I'm standing..."

Michael found himself frowning in disapproval. "Tali, I don't think a _Quarian_ should _enjoy_ the fact that someone experimented on Geth only to have them turn on them..."

Tali flinched at the words. Striking so truly into the heart of what her own people had done to become exiled from their world...and looked down at the floor as she nodded. "I...yes..." A sigh, her face tilting towards him. "...sorry." A deep breath...and she rose. "This _is_ terrible...we'll stop it before things get our of hand."

"If the hacking proved long-term..." Miranda muttered, glancing at Legion. "...does that prove that whatever they did here was at least partially successful? If so we should try to retrieve any data on it..." Then she glanced at Michael, looking hesitant. "...Sir?"

"Attack patterns disrupted, platforms acting mentally deficient, this is not a success." Legion noted, the Geth getting to its feet. "We conclude that information stored here might be dangerous to Geth and organics alike, to preserve lives it should be destroyed."

"Of course you would say that..." Tali glowered at the machine.

Miranda nodded at the Quarian's words. "Agreed, this need not turn into a total loss, we should-"

A screech cut off the rest of her words, the sound long. There was a pause, only for it to begin again...the horrible screeching transmitted from speakers attached to the large computer screen hanging above the dinning room...a screen flickering into life.

Looking up at the screen, Michael blinked, finding dozens of glowing green blocks on it, the blocks moving as they formed the shape of a human face, the dark holes for its eyes staring down at them, its mouth moving, speaking words that only turned into _more_ screeching.

"Make it stop!" Miranda shouted over the electronic wails, the woman pressing her hands against her ears and looking decidedly pissed.

Growling, Michael aimed up...and the screech ended in an explosion of light and glass as the bullet shattered the screen. Even as he did so he saw them...half a dozen cameras in the corners and ceiling of the room, all moving, all tracking the team, glowing green lights like tiny eyes. Six more shots...and they came apart.

"Right, I think it's about time I get some damn answers." Michael grunted as he moved to reload. "Or I'm going to level this entire base, just to be sure."

"Agreed." A new voice spoke...and the group whirled about to aim over at the kitchen in time to spot a man appear behind the counter...a man whose eyes widened, his calm shattering as he ducked back into cover. "Geth! Behind you!"

Sighing, Michael moved forward. "An _unarmed_ Geth...you should be more concerned about _me_..." The man remained behind the counter...making Michael sigh as he calmed himself. "You have a choice, either come out...or be _dragged_ out."

"I...very well..." The man rose, gaze nervously eyeing Legion as he pressed his palms against the counter, looking ready to bolt. "I...despite that _thing_...I'm very glad to see you." It was a balding man, his face weathered by worries and work, his body slim and bony from a life spent in labs and research if the lab uniform he wore was any indication. His grey eyes shone with fear...but also intelligence, curiosity. "I am Dr Gavin Archer, head researcher of this facility, thank you for coming on such short notice."

"Seems you have quite a situation here." Michael noted, putting his assault rifle back into place before crossing his arms over his chest. "I suggest you explain exactly what has hacked this facility and these Geth; some mad VI you experimented on?"

"Not so much a _what_ as a..." The man grimaced, looking uncomfortable. "..._who_."

Michael arched a brow.

Licking his lips, Gavin's gaze flickered between the marine and Legion as the Geth, flanked by the two women, moved closer. "This is really not a conversation to have in front of a _Geth_..."

"If it comes down to it I'll scrap it." Michael replied, finding his patience thinning. "Or _you_, depending on what you tell me. So talk, _now_."

"I..." Gavin looked over to Miranda and her Cerberus uniform, but found no help there...nor was there any in Tali's glare...and Legion's piercing eye only made him sweat before he turned back to Michael. "...don't have many options, do I?" A nervous laugh escaped him, only to swiftly die out. "This site was picked because of a Geth ship crashing on the surface, the content excellent for supplying raw..._material_."

Again his gaze flicked to Legion, but the Geth didn't move, simply observing as Michael growled. "_Do_ go on..."

"Cerberus knows that any future war with the Geth would be bloody for humanity." Gavin paused, watching Legion, but found no reaction in the cold eye looking back. Licking his lips he continued. "But with those fighting alongside Saren we detected religious impulses, a tendency to _worship_ the Reaper. Furthermore what little we know of them seem to imply a fascination with philosophy and Quarian religion..."

Michael arched a brow, turning to look over at Legion. The machine remained quiet, watching Gavin with the same neutral stare.

"We...I...was tasked with finding a way to prevent this bloodbath. And I concluded that by harnessing this religious impulse we could drive the Geth into submission by _giving_ them a God...if they submitted to the worship of this God, a God under _our_ control...there would be no war, we would have won before it had even begun."

"Likelihood of success of such a plan is zero percent." Legion finally spoke...and the doctor leapt back in fright, eyes widening.

"It can talk!"

"This platform has been adapted for communication with organics, yes." Legion cocked its head at Gavin, thinking. "We judge your goal admirable, but we must repeat, you will never succeed with such a plan."

Gavin's fascinated stare turned into a frown. "I...how can you know?"

"It could just be lying to you, too." Tali suggested, easing some of the tension from the doctor's shoulders.

Legion didn't reply though, its head turning to Michael. "Shepard-Commander, the plan would never work, our actions are not forced, but due to choice, worship cannot be forced. We judge this experiment, and any data from it, worthless."

_You're not denying the religious part_... Michael frowned, looking back over to Gavin. "So...this VI of yours you used...didn't go over well with the Geth?"

"We...did not use a VI." The doctor admitted, looking...pained? "A VI lacks the flexibility and ability to handle the Geth network, it is simply too advanced."

"Keelah...don't tell me you made an AI to control the AI..." Tali muttered, head dropping as a hand moved up, making Michael smile as she wearily rubbed her visor as if it was her temples. _You've been hanging around humans too much_...

"Not...that either." Gavin replied, sighing. "A shackled AI is inherently hobbled, the programming we force to keep it compliant slowing and limiting its ability...and an unshackled AI is too dangerous..." Both he and Tali glanced over at the unmoving Legion. "...it has to _want_ to help us...and resentment is easily garnered."

Miranda shook her head, saying exactly what Michael was thinking. "Wait, if you didn't use a VI, nor an AI...how did you try to gain control over the Geth?"

Gavin grimaced, taking a shuddering breath as he looked away. "First we created a machine capable of contacting and interacting with the Geth network, to this we added a VI with vast processing power and memory...as a buffer...sort of..."

"What..." Michael snapped. "...did you..." Finding a worry grow in his gut. "...use?"

"My brother, David..." Gavin took another shuddering breath, still refusing to look at them. "..._volunteered_ to hook himself into the machine, giving it genuine consciousness, a consciousness allied to us."

"Why the hell would anyone volunteer to do _that_!" Michael gasped, staring in disbelief at the man.

Now Gavin looked back at him, eyes narrowing. "Some of us are willing to sacrifice much to archive results, even our own flesh."

_Don't lecture me about self sacrifice_..._poor_ _sod_. Michael opened his mouth to speak, but Legion was faster. "That is impossible. Human hardware nor software is similar enough to the Geth network to communicate, not to mention command, the Geth network."

"You'd be surprised what a human is capable of, _Geth_." Gavin retorted, glaring at the machine.

Legion looked right back at him, shaking its head. "It is not a question of ability, but of information. The human brain is complex as a small singular unit; the Geth network complex through size, translation of information would be too taxing for a human mind to keep up."

_Driving_ _him_..._mad_. Michael looked back to Gavin, feeling himself pale. The doctor was shaking his head though, looking annoyed. "It worked perfectly well during testing, David was able to command several Geth simultaneously."

Miranda's voice was laced with a hint of irritation now. "Yet we see _this_...what happened?"

"I...well...you know what it's like!" Gavin took a step back, breathing deeply as he snarled as much at them as at everything around him. "The project was taking too long, the Illusive Man wanted results...so I pushed the deadline." _Oh_ _no_... "There were only so many tests we could run before hooking him up to the entire ship's network anyway, it was only upping the number of Geth units to command after all..." He looked away.

Silence.

Then Legion's voice. "We repeat; Geth gain complexity by size, the number of Geth grew on a linear curve, complexity exponentially."

"I knew that!" The doctor snapped, taking a step forward, fists bunching against the counter as he glared at the machine. "But we had to try!" Under Legion's gaze he faltered, however, looking away. Tone dull. "And now my brother is gone...along with the rest of the team...and we have to stop him..."

"Stop him? What is he doing, exactly?" Michael asked, forcing himself to look at the man neutrally, however much _letting_ your brother volunteer for such a thing disgusted him. _Guess I can try Garrus' way_..._second chance and all that crap_. "Tell me and we might do something to repair this."

"Yes...I have been looking into this as best I can while avoiding David's troops..." Gavin nodded. "...whatever happened...it twisted him into something else...I don't know if he's even _there_ any more. He's infecting machines all over the base, every door, every elevator, every mech, every single thing with a _chip_ in it...it is _all_ under his command...I don't even think he can help it. If he reached past the planet and into civilised areas..." The doctor shuddered at the thought.

_Good I told EDI to shut down communications then_... "We have a ship in orbit with more men there, can you point us towards the base's generators? If we can shut them off the shield around the base goes as well."

"Sure, but it won't do you any good." Gavin replied, sighing. "We have large generators being driven by the planet's core...but we've led a lot of energy into large capacitors in the main lab to keep things running in case of some disaster, and I'm sure Dav-the program, is using those."

"And how long will those last?"

David grimaced, meeting his gaze. "Two years...give or take."

"Oh, what a _great_ idea, _really_..." Michael groaned, rubbing his temples. _Cerberus __finally__ takes some precautions with their crazy experiments_..._and those serve to turn things for the __worse_..._why__ didn't I see this coming_? "So I guess we have to go for the main lab, then?"

"Erm..." _Of_ _course_ _not_. "...Dav-the _program_...initiated a security lock-down, you can't get to the lab without shutting down the security locks at the energy plant and inside the Geth ship...only then can you enter the main lab and stop...him."

_Great, just great_..._I hate the Illusive man_. "Good." Michael drew his assault rifle, checking the ammo gauge as he sensed a long battle to come. "Anything else."

"Yes...there isn't much time." _Of_ _course_ _not_... "So far, David has not been able to take over the relay dishes, but once he does he will be able to transmit himself off the planet...and we'll have an apocalypse as every computer on every planet is turned against its users."

"So..basically the same 'the world is about to end' pressure I _always_ have then?" Michael snorted, making the doctor blink in surprise. "Alright people, can't waste time cleaning up somebody else's mess, let's move out." He turned to leave.

"Shepard-Commander." Stopping in his tracks, Michael looked back at Legion, standing there, its hands hanging by its sides since he'd forgotten to put its manacles back on...though with Tali keeping a firm watch he wasn't worried. "Considering the danger and need of speed we would be better able to assist if we were to be allowed weapons."

Tali was silently shaking her head, Miranda looking uncertain...and Michael eyed the machine for any treachery, knowing he would be unable to find anything in the cold eye looking back at him.

_Time is of the essence, unarmed it'll slow us down, we could tie it up or shoot it_..._but that would be wasting a resource, not to mention I don't trust Gavin around it_...God..._I can't believe I'm considering this_...

"Go ahead, Legion, grab a weapon and follow." Michael nodded to Tali, the Quarian staring at him as if he had gone mad. "But one wrong move and princess here will blow your head off."

A hiss escaped Tali at his use of his nickname for her...and he shot her a smirk even as Legion reached down, prying a pulse rifle from one of the downed machines...and holding it at the ready while offering a short nod. "We will comply, we follow Shepard-Commander."

Behind him, Gavin muttered, fascinated. "An unshackled AI offering to work with an organic...I can't believe it."

Grumbling, annoyed with being disturbed from his teasing of Tali, Michael turned and brushed past the doctor. "Believe it, now show us this energy plant."

_This is going to suck_...

8

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_Thanks to Abydos Jackson for being so great._


	46. Chapter 46

Miranda felt...on edge.

The Geth, or Heretic if you believed Legion, ship was utterly silent. Everywhere there were Geth bodies thrown into corners, great heaps of limp machines, ready to be used by the Cerberus personnel. Only...there _was_ no personnel, here and there they had found the odd stain of blood...but there were no bodies.

So far, not a single Geth had attacked them though, nor had any doors closed...there was nothing but silence greeting their every step.

In comparison, the power plant they had visited a couple of hours ago had seen nothing but hardships. Every door had slammed shut in front of them, forcing them to weld it open, every console had been so full of security measures that even when working _together_ Tali and Legion had been pressed to push past the safeguards. And then there had been the security mechs, security drones, _heavy_ mechs...David had thrown every bit of scrap at the team to stop them.

_Yet_..._now_ _I_ _feel_ _nervous_.

Ahead, Legion was pressing against an alcove, risking a glance around the corner, clearly unperturbed by the silence and lack of resistance as it called out. "Clear." Then it added. "We are near our target."

Miranda, still pressing up against her own alcove in the rear of the team, gazed at the machine, puzzled.

Legion hadn't shown a _hint_ of treachery so far, if it had Miranda was sure Tali would have blown it apart. Considering what they were experimenting on Miranda had at least expected some sort of continuation of its initial protest against the experiments, save the fact it didn't believe success possible...but there had been none.

It had been quite useful too, hacking consoles and shooting down mechs with a calm only a machine was capable of. _Well_..._and_ _Michael_. The man didn't look the least nervous, though he looked a little...annoyed

The man had stopped next to Legion, frowning as he too glanced around the corner. "Hang on...I sense a trap, probably an ambush."

"Great." Tali muttered, drawing Miranda's gaze. The Quarian had been on edge ever since Legion had been given a weapon, and now, deep within the crashed Geth ship...she was looking decidedly nervous, her head turning left and right, silver eyes staring at every corner and shadow, trying to discern a threat.

Miranda couldn't blame her, she _was_ a Quarian after all, being on a Geth ship ought to be...disturbing. Despite their earlier clash, Miranda actually felt like comforting her...but she knew it would just come out wrong and therefore held her tongue. In fact, she was half expecting Michael to reach out and do just that...but the man was focused on the task at hand, only sparing the occasional moment to throw Tali a glance.

Now he did just that...and the Quarian seemed to relax a little more, making Miranda frown in thought.

_It, whatever it is, doesn't seem to hamper them, almost_..._the_ _opposite_? _Was_ _I_ _wrong_...?

Legion's voice interrupted her treacherous thoughts. "Shepard-Commander expects an ambush? There was an ideal ambush-site two corridors and three chambers ago, yet no ambush, the room ahead is less ideal, why would there be an ambush?"

"It's perfect." Michael grunted, leaning back against the wall of the dark corridor. "You let them get to the very end, dangle the prize just in front of them...then close the vice and let them despair."

Silence, Legion bobbing its head.

Finally it looked up at him. "We believe we understand, should we file this information under psychological warfare?"

Still looking around the corner towards whatever chamber lay ahead, Michael shrugged. "Or 'organics are assholes', take your pick." He shrugged...then stopped, looking back at Legion. "By the way...how do you feel about all this? I sort of expected a bigger reaction."

Tali tensed, looking over at the Geth...as did Miranda, curious at the sight of the machine cocking its head to the side. "Specify."

"I mean...they're using this ship and the inhabitants for experiments...that's basically torture." Michael grimaced. "I sort of expected...I don't know...you to be outraged?"

"We cannot become outraged." Legion noted, making Tali sigh. "And these are Heretics, not Geth, we do not defend them."

"But if it _hadn't_ been Heretics?" He pressed.

"Geth in a crashing ship are automatically uploaded to the central network, the material is considered lost with the crash, someone else making use of it is only logical, the Geth lose nothing when others use the material." Legion remained characteristically detached.

"But what about the _people_?" Tali said, sounding annoyed. "Don't you care about them? The programs might be copied, but they're still _there_, being _used_."

"Hacked Geth do not suffer, their perspective is changed." Legion looked back to her, perfectly calm.

"They're trying to figure out a way to hack your entire _race_...and you don't react?" Michael stared at the machine, stunned, then raised his hand. "And don't give me that crap about it not working, just...I don't _get_ it."

"Before we answer, may we ask a question, Shepard-Commander?"

"Go ahead."

"Do humans consider a war with the Geth inevitable?"

Michael frowned, then nodded. "Most do, I suppose, we're still in war with those 'Heretics', you claim exist...and we can't tell the difference between them and Geth...so technically we view ourselves already at war with you."

"Then we understand." Legion nodded, almost sounding..._pleased_? "Human perspective is that a war with the Geth is inevitable. However wrong that impression is, it means the logical move is to prepare for such a war, we cannot disapprove."

"They're trying to brainwash your entire race...and you won't even resist!" Michael stared at the machine. "Are you shitting me?"

"We did not say we would not resist." Legion retorted, the machine shrugging, the gesture looking frighteningly human. "We understand their decision, we understand them, but we will resist. While we do not desire battle..." It turned its head, glowing eye focusing on Tali. "...we _will_ defend our existence."

Something akin to a growl escaped Tali even as she squirmed, looking uncomfortable. "So you don't disapprove of doing these experiments on sentient beings? It's torture, plain and simple."

"It is hacking." Legion corrected, not looking away from Tali. "Torture would imply pain. And even if it was painful, we would not disapprove. Doctor Gavin Archer's goal, however impossible, is commendable. If he could end a possible war without casualties for either side, even if one is changed to something else, it would be a commendable deed."

"I agree." Miranda nodded, well aware of Cerberus protocols about the sacrifice of the few over the need of the many. "If torturing one person would save ten, wouldn't you do it?"

Legion turned its head to her...and nodded. "Miss Lawson is correct, it is the solution saving the most."

"It's also a black and white problem." Michael snorted, shaking his head. "The world isn't that simple, there's _always_ other options, other ways to confront an issue and find a solution. In the long run, if you take the quick way you end up with...well..._this_." He gestured as the broken corridor and Geth around them. A look of sadness crossed his face, for but a moment. "Ruthlessness punishes, in the end, the ruthless."

Further off, Tali was reaching out towards the man, almost in a daze...before, with a shake of her head, remembered herself and turned towards Legion. "Exactly, torture isn't okay, no matter what reason you have for it...it will only allow for more crimes later."

Crossing her arms, Miranda shook her head, disagreeing...and not a little surprised that she and Legion were in agreement.

Legion was cocking its head to the side, however. "We are confused. Creator Tali'Zorah would not approve of torture of Geth in efforts to further Creator war-efforts?"

"No." The Quarian shook her head, crossing her arms over her chest...then she looked away. "I might...not _like_ your kind..." She shot Michael a shy glance...and the man actually _blushed_ a little, smiling slightly, gaze distant in memory. "...but you _are_ sentient...and there _are_ limits to what I'd let someone do to a sentient being." Michael's smile grew a little more present, his back straightening as he looked over at the Quarian, looking..._proud_. And this time _Tali_ looked away, head tilting down, embarrassed. _I believe I've missed something between them_...

Legion said nothing, the plates around its eye moving up and down as it pondered her words. If it was surprised or not, Miranda couldn't tell.

Turning back to Legion, Tali shook her head. "I...could we agree to disagree about this? It's not getting us any further."

"Agreed." The machine's head bobbed, eye moving back to the chamber ahead. "If Shepard-Commander is correct we should proceed with caution."

"He's always correct about these things." Tali murmured, her shotgun humming as she checked the charge.

"Yeah...sucks, doesn't it?" Michael chuckled, rifle tracking left and right as he turned the corner and advanced...only to come to a halt as he cocked his head to the side and glanced back. "Wait...what do you mean, '_these_ things'?"

A little giggle escaped Tali. "You want me to explain to the others about your beliefs in how hacking works...?"

Michael chuckled right back as he moved forth, making the others follow. "What? You mean the prickly fairies? I still say they're real..."

Miranda arched a brow...and found herself clamping down on the smile nearly appearing on her lips. She shook it off, surprised with herself...though the feeling dulled as the group, now silent, moved into the new room.

It was a vast chamber with a ceiling of curved arches, threads of a dulled silvery colour snaking through them like tiny rivers before reaching a floor of bulbous..._growths_, almost looking like the roots to a tree. There the rivers turned into larger, straight, lines. Fortunately, Cerberus personnel had installed a grilled floor over the growths, making the footing as the group quietly approached a large computer screen off in the centre of the room, the large lever on it painted a dull red. Besides that, one couldn't see much, the lighting low and keeping the chamber in a semi-dark state.

"What..._is_ this?" Miranda asked, voice hushed, feeling small and insignificant in the large, and confusing, room.

"A commune." Legion replied, the machine not having the emotional understanding to lower its tone, making it sound harsh and disrespectful in the dark chamber. "Here, Geth, or in this instance, Heretic programs convene for direct communication to achieve consensus, on a ship like this it is rarely used, only when faced with a significant problem will programs be drawn to the commune to...in human terms, debate."

"Keelah..." Tali muttered, shaking her head in wonder. "I've _never_ seen..."

"Focus." Michael's voice cut in, making the others draw their attention back to the man as he approached the computer. "My guess is that the moment I pull that lever we'll be in for a fight."

"And then we'll fight our way out." Miranda guessed, turning around to track her pistol over the shadows around them. "I don't think it's wise to linger to fight an entire ship packed of hacked Geth..."

"Exactly; now, get ready..." Michael muttered, hand gripping the lever...and snapping it down with a loud clack that echoed through the chamber.

Silence.

"Huh." Michael said. "Surprising, I was really sure there'd be-"

Then the computer screen flashed, the green face appearing on it, mouth open..._screaming_ at them.

A second later there was the scraping of metal against metal...and Miranda stared with a lump in her throat as all around them, Geth, their eyes glowing a dark green, clawed their way up atop the bulbous growths of the floor as they crawled out of their hiding places, almost looking like undead coming right out of their graves.

A low screech emanated from them...and their hands reached out as they hobbled forward, several already crawling up on the grilled floor.

Legion's voice was, as always, devoid of emotion. "These units lack weapons, and recently reactivated Geth will be slow until sufficient tensile strength has been built up within artificial muscles of their limbs, we suggest haste."

"Mechanised zombies..." Michael growled as he stepped forth, mouth a thin line. "I _hate_ Cerberus."

Miranda glared at him, though her voice lacked the conviction she wanted to convey. "Hey! We are _not_ to blame for-"

Then Michael's Revenant spoke, cutting her words short as it poured a line of shots along the edge of the grilled floor, smashing four machines crawling up on it back off with one volley. "Sorry!" Michael moved forth, though shot her a grin as he advanced, firing another volley into the first Geth to straighten atop the floor. "Can't hear you over the Cerberus-possessed Geth I'm killing!"

_Oh_ _for_... Running right after him Miranda let her own pistol flare, sending two Geth on her right off the grilled floor before they had time to do anything more then straighten.

"There's a lot of them..." Tali muttered right next to Miranda as she, also running, let her shotgun bark, cleaving the chest of a Geth reaching out for her in two.

"Then speed is of the essence." Legion concluded, the machine bringing up the rear as with a kick it sent one climbing foe off the grilled floor before it moved to follow the other three.

"Less talky, more runny!" Michael, already at the distant doorway, called out, the man looking grim as with a braced stance he poured shots past the running three, felling pursuers to the sound of their screeches. "_Hurry_!"

And they hurried.

8

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8

They had finally reached the main lab.

Again, they found corpses, burnt, shot, torn apart...fires raged in corners; mechs and Geths from doctor Archer's experiments haunting them at every turn, doors slamming shut, consoles beeping uncontrollably, elevators turning into death traps...

Miranda felt not only paranoid about what every twist and turn would bring...but also found herself...muted. The sheer horror of what had occurred was slowly sinking in...everywhere she turned there was death, most faces still fixed in grimaces of utter terror...when the dead _had_ faces, that is.

She hadn't mentioned it, she hadn't thought it important...but if she hadn't been on the Lazarus project, remaking Shepard, she would probably had ended up on this one. _I could have been among the dead_... She was trained and prepared for dying...but to die like that...torn apart by your own creation, nothing but terror running through your mind...

_What if Shepard had turned into this_? She swallowed, eyeing the man moving ahead, so calm and prepared, in control. _He hadn't been like that when he'd woken up though_... She remembered the fire in his eyes, the uncontrolled rage, the way he had torn his foes apart with nothing but his fists. _Did_..._did we take too much of a risk_? She _knew_ the answer, she _really_ did...yet the horrors before her..._muddled_ the picture, turning statistics and numbers into something meaningless.

And she knew it wasn't the first time. She had top clearance, she had _seen_ the failed experiments, read the 'losses' versus the 'gains'...but 'gains' meant the death of some opponent to human expansion or some new technology or agent getting planted. 'Losses' usually meant things like this, entire bases destroyed, agents tortured by enemy organisations, men and women..._slaughtered_.

To see it in reality was..._new_ to her.

_It's for a greater cause_..._the individual is expendable if it strengthens the whole_.

She _knew_ she was right, yet the words rang hollow in the face of such destruction...

Ahead, the door clicked shut, the console to it overheating with a sizzle. _Not_ _again_... Only for another door, this one to the left of the leading Michael, sliding open.

The man quickly dropped onto one knee as he slid round to aim down the door, as he did every time 'David' tried to flank them with another assault. Yet this time, he didn't fire, slowly lowering his Revenant as he frowned. "Huh...is that...the console to the capacitors?"

Moving over to him, Miranda, Tali and Legion all looked into the room...and Tali stated, sounding bemused. "It...sure looks like it."

The part of the room one could stand in was small, nothing but a platform for a large computer and its console. The rest was a long chamber, half-submerged in green liquid, several round cylinders lining it, cables running from them and up into the ceiling.

And even as they watched, the console flickered into life, panels sliding forth on it, almost..._tantalising_.

"We conclude a high probability of this being a trap." Legion stated, saying what they were all no doubt thinking.

"Yes, but it _is_ what we want." Michael said, straightening...and so did the others in turn. "And I really want this to be over..._before_ this virus thing spreads past the planet."

"True..." Tali moved forth. "...here goes nothing, let's hope-hey!"

Michael had grabbed her arm...and licked his lips as the Quarian glared back at him. "Let me...take this one."

"Oh sure, let _you_ take the risk, as you _always_ do...bosh'tet." Tali snarled, wrenching her arm free...only for the man to grab it again. "Stop it, this is _my_ thing! Or would you prefer Legion to do it?"

"Legion is a _machine_, it can be hacked." Michael replied, shaking his head. "And if something goes wrong...well, you're the one with the skills to handle stuff like this, I just shoot things."

"And I'm also the one best able to _handle_ that thing if it's booby-trapped." Tali retorted, standing there stiffly, her arm still in Michael's grip. "And if something goes wrong, Legion can do what I do to back _you_ up..."

_Are they arguing_..._who_ _to_ _risk_ _a possible_ _trap_! Miranda stared, incredulous.

"Ah, so you trust Legion...to do what you do...?" Michael muttered, moving closer. "Leaving me in a place requiring tech skills to get out...with Legion?"

"I..." Tali muttered a curse, looking away...only for her head to snap back to glare at Michael. "Dammit, don't try that! I won't-"

"I'm in charge, I make the call." Michael interrupted, looking down at the Quarian, his grip on her arm now loose.

Silence.

Then Tali wrenched her arm free, shaking her head as she turned away from him, arms crossed over her chest. "_Fine_."

Chuckling, Michael put a hand on her shoulder as he brushed past her. "Sorry, _princess_."

A near growl escaped the Quarian. "Oh you _will_ be, ass..."

"Great, _now_ I'm scared..." Michael muttered as he moved forth, the others carefully following as they eyed the console ahead as if it were a live viper, a viper the man now reached for... "...but come on, it's a console, worst thing that can happen is that it shorts out and gives me a burn..."

Then a spark shot out from it...and Michael's hand moved to pull back, only to stop as the spark turned into a green bolt that almost seemed to shape into a green _hand_...that gripped his wrist.

"Oh for crying out-" His voice was cut short, mouth gaping open as the visor of his helmet came alight with green light, his armour whirring and clicking, the exoskeleton of it forcing his body to move. "Wh-what _is_ that...?" His voice was but a whisper, shocked, but not in pain...as his forced movement brought him out of the room.

Miranda leapt after him...only for the door to slam shut before her, sending her tumbling to the floor as she bounced off it.

Looking up, dazed, she found Legion calmly moving its hands over the door, checking its integrity. Meanwhile, Tali was also at it, repeatedly slamming her fists into it, _shrieking_.

Blinking, Miranda found her hearing returning...and with it Tali's words. "You stupid bosh'tet! I swear, if you die I'm going to...to...I'll go _crazy_! I'll beat the living snot out of you! Why did you have to do it, you moronic..._idiot_! I...if you actually...I...I _hate_ you!" The blows started to peter out, the Quarian's visored head coming to rest against the door. "I hate you..."

Rising to her feet, Miranda dusted herself off, momentarily horrified with the thought of what might happen...and then raised her chin, calming. "We'll get him back."

Tali was instantly in her face, the Quarian's eyes narrow slits, her voice a hiss. "You're damn right, we will..."

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They had burnt through the first door...and then the second...yet after that they had simply been standing open before them, almost _inviting_ them to hurry after their Commander.

And now Miranda was panting, struggling to keep up with Tali, the Quarian moving with a speed Miranda had _never_ seen in her, pushing the pace to the point that even Legion's tireless legs were having trouble keeping up.

Tali, _not_ a Commander...was now somehow leading them through virtue of a combination of anger and desperation.

_I __was__ wrong about those two_...

Miranda's observation was but an exhausted thought, a thought cut short as they slid round a corner...and came to a sudden halt at the sight before them.

It was a large, round chamber before them, the walls and ceiling curved, green lights flickering in panels within them. Four large columns held the ceiling up, each covered with thick cables reinforced by steel rings that led up to a large metallic halo in the centre of the room, it, in turn, held up by thinner steel beams along with a dizzying array of cables reaching up to the ceiling.

Metal arms reached down from the halo, reaching down at something...something blocked by Michael and doctor Archer as the former held the later high in the air by his collar.

_What in the_...

Miranda's mouth opened to protest...but no words came as she watched the Commander. There was no longer a green glow over his visor, no signs of his suit being hacked...only teeth bared in anger, eyes flashing with fire. "Sacrifice your own flesh...you meant that _you_ did that! _You_ sacrificed _him_!"

"I wasn't...lying." The doctor tried, gasping for air, sweat running down his forehead.

"And what about him volunteering! He _couldn't_ have volunteered, _could_ he! He's _autistic_!" A snarl...and the man shook the doctor. "Was that it? He's not completely there, so it's easier? He's more _expendable_!"

"Don't you call him that!" Gavin snarled back, eyes flashing with anger. "I _love_ him! His gift for mathematics was the _perfect_ gateway to the Geth! I wasn't being completely selfish! I wanted him to have a _new_ life! For the world to finally make _sense_ for him!"

"Love...him?" Michael repeated, spitting the words. "I _saw_ what you did, he _showed_ me what you did! You _pushed_ for this! He _begged_ you to stop...he _begged_ you!" Again, he shook the doctor. "This was _never_ for him, don't you dare say that!"

Silence...hesitation...then Gavin raised his chin, defiant. "I did what I thought best for him..."

"_This_...is what you thought best?" Michael dropped Gavin back onto the floor...and forced him onto his knees and to face the centre of the halo, to see...what Miranda now could see. "_Look_ at him!"

_Oh_ _dear_ _God_...

Miranda felt all colour drain from her face, her hand coming up to clamp over her open mouth.

The man was naked...and nothing but skin and bone remained, every thin muscle and vein showed under paper thin skin.

His arms were stretched wide, black spikes the size of bayonets jabbed through them in regular intervals, the edges of the wounds tinged crimson by crusted blood, equally black tubes lead up from the spikes and into the halo above, like tentacles of some monster.

His legs hung limply down...but only because more spikes had been thrust through his midsection, a wide steel ring attached to the halo by metal arms holding him a few inches above the floor.

And his face...the bald skull was adorned with a black crown...so firmly attached to the skull that blood had seeped from it. From the crown, two wicked hooks reached down, gripping into his eyelids and forcing them to stay open as green light from a screen held in front of him poured into his pale eyes.

His mouth was moving, trying to speak...but two thick cables reached down from the halo filled it, keeping his dried up lips widely open as the tubes now and again jerked as they pumped something into him, something Miranda didn't _want_ to know what it was.

_God_..._I_...

Miranda's mouth moved, but no words came...instead she heard Tali, the Quarian's voice distant. "I wish I was surprised...I really do..."

_It_..._can't_..._how_..._who_ _could_ _have_...

Gavin's voice was a low whisper. "It was for the greater good..."

_I_..._can't_..._fathom_ _it_...

But she _could_...and that _horrified_ her.

_Dear_ _God_..._no_...

"Nothing like _this_ can be called _good_..." Michael growled low.

"My broth-"

"_Don't_. Call him that." Michael moved...and Miranda found her gaze, blurry with tears, watch him as he gripped Gavin and hoisted him away from David. "Legion, guard him, he moves, he dies." He let Gavin go...who simply fell to the floor, too drained to move, head held low, defeated.

"You're...okay." Tali murmured, the Quarian stepping closer to Michael...who in turn moved closer, bowing his head in a yes. "I...should yell at you." He nodded again. "I...another time..." She reached out...and fleetingly touched his arm.

Silence, Michael looking down at the Quarian...who stared at his chest, drawing shuddering breaths.

Then Michael spoke, a low mutter. "Help me get him down..."

"No." Miranda whispered, stopping Tali mid-stride...yet unable to look at the Quarian's questioning look as she stared over at David. "Let me..."

She wasn't really aware of Michael nodding, only that she and he were moving forward, slowly, almost solemnly.

A few taps of a controller nearby...and the metal ring holding David fast gently moved down, letting his feet finally touch the floor before letting go.

He fell...but Miranda and Michael caught him, carefully lowering him onto his knees as they moved with him.

_He's so light_...

Michael gripped the cords moving into David's mouth...and Miranda shuddered as they slowly came out, making the man in her arms shake. He was trying to get away, to trash in pain...yet the struggle was so weak Miranda barely felt it.

Then they came out...and black bile followed, staining the man's chin and heaving chest . His lips cracked, blood flowing...but they moved, speaking. "Square...root..."

"Hush...hush..." Miranda croaked, blinking furiously as she reached for his right arm, holding it fast as she slowly eased spike after spike out of his limb, barely aware of Michael doing the same to his left. "Y-you're safe..."

New blood flowed from the wounds...yet despite the massive holes it was but a trickle, the man so dehydrated nothing remained.

_I_..._we_ _knew_ _of_ _this_..._yet_..._God_...

Michael reached out, hands grasping the sides of David's head, holding it fast as Miranda's hands moved for his crown. A tug...and she freed the hooks from his eyelids while pulling the crown off him.

It left a crown of blood around his skull, old and crusted, new and trickling down. Yet the man's eyes closed...and there was relief in his tiny smile.

Then he opened his eyes, meeting Miranda's, and despite her blurry vision, and the trickle of blood running into his left eye...she saw it.

Gratitude.

And it _shamed_ her.

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_Thanks to Abydos Jackson for her perseverance_.


	47. Chapter 47

He felt tired.

Having changed course back to Tuchanka when they had gotten back, Michael had felt not a little relieved, happy to leave the entire episode behind them. Of course, just leaving the planet didn't mean he was out of duties for the mission. There was the usual debriefing with the team, the weapon and armour being checked, damages replaced, and so on...and then the oh so _delightful_ talk with the Illusive Man.

Michael had been too tired to really yell at him, though the anger had furnished just that for a few minutes, at least. But as usual the Illusive Man had been all too capable in calming Michael by claiming that the research might have gotten out of hand, but was necessary...and how could one argue with someone so perfectly calm and logical that was convinced he was in the right?

Then there had been the problem with the silent and pale doctor Gavin Archer...Michael had been torn about the whole thing. He _could_ have sent the man to an Alliance outpost for prison...but one look at the Illusive man and Michael had known he would have gotten the doctor out and back to work, probably under heavy security, keeping the doctor protected as well as imprisoned. He _could_ have shot Gavin, Michael supposed, it wasn't as if he _cared_ if he increased the tension with the Illusive Man.

But he had stayed his hand there in the lab...and after that a cold-blooded execution seemed wrong. It would probably have been _best_ to do so...but it was too close to what Cerberus would do, kill someone not due to your dislike of them but because it would be _logical_ in reaching a desired result. Back when he'd hunted Saren, Michael was sure he'd have taken such a call without a second thought, _now_, however...things were different.

Perhaps letting him go to find his own path, either to Cerberus, or another profession..._was_ the best thing? To, as Garrus said, give someone a second chance...even _if_ the man was a monster? Michael was well aware how much that reminded him of himself...and could only hope Gavin would make a similar, but more healthy choice about what to do with his life.

In the end, discussing his choice about bringing David to the Grissom academy had felt like a waste of time, and Michael had just chosen to agree to disagree and silenced the communication. The only real difference from the previous discussions was that Miranda hadn't been there when Michael had turned around, she had stayed in her office.

That meant another duty, or rather responsibility, of going to check on her. She had been oddly...distant, refusing to openly answer what was wrong...looking tenser and tenser the more Michael had prodded. In the end he had simply offered that he'd listen when she felt like talking. She had nodded, looking strangely bitter even as she thanked him...

Michael had moved on, letting Miranda have the privacy she apparently needed...and now he was _exhausted_.

Lying on his bed, atop the cower with his clothes on and all, Michael felt himself slowly being pulled into the abyss of sleep. Part of him was rebelling against it, knowing he had work to do, his worn electronic reader was waiting on the desk, he was also aware that the fish he'd bought back on Illium _really_ needed to be fed...

_Was I like this before, when I hunted Saren_? He slowly shook his head, forcing his eyes open. _No_..._stupid_ _lack_ _of_ _drugs_..._now_ _I_ _have_ _to_ _sleep_..._how_ _annoying_... He smirked, knowing he was actually _happy_ about having gotten rid of them...yet sleeping was a sad waste of time.

_Maybe_..._I'll just close my eyes and rest a little_? _Yes, that sounds good, I can get back to work in_..._five minutes or so_?_ Yes, just a little rest_...

That's when the door swished open.

"I'm last!" Jack shouted, the walls of the room suddenly shining with a ominous dark blue glow. "I'm fucking _last_!"

_Here we go_...

"Oh, hello Jack." Michael said, tone more snarky then intended as he sat up. Ahead, the overly tattooed, not to mention overly topless, woman came to a halt atop the short set of stairs, her body glowing with biotic energy, eyes slits. _Huh, she might actually hurt me_."No, _please_, come in, my door is always open to you."

A low growl escaped the woman, the glow of the biotic energy around her growing.

"Trying to intimidate me gets you nothing." Michael replied, now in an even tone. Seeing Jack hesitate, no doubt remembering her failed attempts to scare him to let her have her way the previous time, Michael continued. "In fact, threatening me is rapidly diminishing your chances of you remaining on the ship, _and_ getting this done."

The glow weakened.

Michael sighed, tiredly rubbing her face. Having _actually_ created a list for the ground team, Michael had had several..._talks_.

It wasn't that he wanted to pry, heaven knew _he_ understood how painful it was to think, never mind _talk_, about the skeletons in your closet. But some issues would, of course, be more immediate, and Michael needed to know which ones were so he could properly place them in a good order of which needed to be resolved first. He had tried not to judge, to look at each issue calmly, to figure out how immediate the need to get each problem done with was.

_That_ was why Mordin, with his assistant no doubt being tortured at this very moment, and Grunt, about to tear the ship apart in uncontrollable violence, were top on the list. Jacob, while having an issue of great emotional weight, was not a problem in quick need to be fixed, his father was likely dead, after all. The same thing applied to Jack, if not more so, dead ruins wouldn't go anywhere.

_Heh, if Jack's mad __now__, wonder what happens when others sign up and end up higher on the list_...

"Now..." He looked back up at Jack, ignoring the still lingering haze of biotic energy surrounding her. "...either we have a calm conversation where you explain your issue..." He nodded towards the door. "...or you can go back in the hold and calm down."

A hiss...and Jack's body came aglow once more.

Michael crossed his arms over his chest, unimpressed. "Or you can leave ship." A slight smile. "If that's what you prefer...?"

Jack hesitated.

"Of course, it'll be difficult for you to get a hold of a bomb, a ship and then actually _reach_ that base...that with Cerberus not liking their investments leaving and you being wanted in...what...the entire Terminus system?" Michael cocked his head to the side, smiling. "I'm sure you _could_ do it, but it would take time, more time then I'm asking for you to wait for, so the question is...can you be _patient_?"

Jack glowered at him, chewing her bottom lip...then a low growl escaped her. "Fuck you."

Michael chuckled, a sweet smile on his face. "I thought we'd had that discussion, I said no."

There was a moment of Jack's energy growing once more...and then it flicked out. "Yeah, you did..." A snort as she shook her head, glaring at the fishes next to her. "...pussy."

"Yes, yes...I'm scared of you." Michael rolled his eyes. "Now, _please_, sit down and talk to me."

"I..._fuck_." Jack threw herself into the nearby couch, glowering at him. "You _really_ rub me the wrong way, Shepard."

"No, I don't, I just try to help, and you don't understand my motivation." Michael replied, trying to sound as reasonable as possible. _She's like a petulant child_..._with_ _a_ _gun_. "Now, I told you before; while I _understand_ your need to make up with your past, the ruins of the base won't _go_ anywhere, and others, with more immediate concerns, _will_ come first."

"I..." Jack's eyes narrowed momentarily...only for her to look away as her shoulders slumped: "...you did." An angry shake of her head as she lowered it. "It just sucks, you know?"

"It does." Michael agreed, offering a brief nod. "I'm sorry, but I'm looking out for everyone...besides...a lesson in patience might be _good_ for you."

Jack's head shot up, eyes narrowed...only to find Michael smiling.

Silence.

Then a snort as she looked away. "You're not my father."

Sensing her anger abating, Michael shrugged. "Didn't say I was."

Silence.

Then Jack looked back to him, frowning in irritation, her tone almost..._pleading_. "What about Jacob, then? His thing isn't so important, right?"

"It's as important to him as your issue is with you." Michael retorted. "However, there is a _minimal_ possibility that his father is alive, which makes that a higher priority then your base."

Jack shook her head. "Oh, come on...there's no way that's enough of a reason...I mean...let me go before him, at least..."

"Ask nicely."

Jack stared at him, and Michael smiled back, knowing he had the upper hand, a hiss...and she spoke through clenched teeth. "_Please_, let me be above Jacob on the list..."

_Oh, that must have been painful_. Michael held back the smile threatening to appear. "Very good..." Jack's shoulders slumped as she looked away. "...but I didn't mean that you should ask _me_." She looked up sharply, staring at him...as he pointed back at the door. "You need to ask _Jacob_, it's _his_ father we're talking about."

Jack's hand held onto her knees...arms flexing as she gripped them tightly in anger...but to Michael's surprise there was no biotic glow around her as the woman took a deep breath...and then slowly exhaled. "I...okay...sure...I'll go do that then." A slow shake of her head, voice low. "Can't hurt to..._ask_." The word sounded foreign in her mouth, as if she was tasting it...and Michael nodded, satisfied. A little chuckle as she threw in an aside. "Besides, it's not like I'm _really_ last."

"Huh?" Michael blinked, rising to his feet as Jack did the same. "What do you mean? I'm pretty sure you are..."

"You didn't know?" Jack shot him a puzzled look. "I'd thought you would be the _first_ to know..."

"What are you _talking_ about?" Michael pushed, moving closer, a heavy feeling in his stomach.

Jack blinked. "Well...Tali's now on that list, I thought you'd-hey!"

Michael brushed past Jack, striding right for the elevator, mind a blank.

"Wait, I'm also taking the eleva-" Jack's voice was cut short as the elevator doors slammed shut, enveloping Michael in the soft darkness that was the small room.

_She's_..._on_ _the_ _list_?

_Why didn't she_...?

_I haven't been told_...

_We talk all the time_...

_What has happened_...?

_Is she okay_...?

Then the door slid open, and Michael stepped out, feeling as if he was in a dream. Turning, he moved through the door to the right, his steps oddly heavy. The next door slid open...and he came to a halt.

She was standing there, her back to him, working, not looking the least different, concealing whatever was wrong.

"Tali..." His mumble made her turn...and freeze still as she saw him, silver eyes widening at the sight of him. "...what has happened...?"

"I..." The Quarian's hands ended up in front of her lap, nervously fiddling with one another. "...it's nothing big, I thought it could wait, I didn't..." She looked down at her hands, unable to look at him any longer. "...want to think about it."

Michael swallowed. "You...tell me, okay?" He forced a chuckle, though it sounded dead and awkward in his ears. "I mean...if it's important it should be higher on the list..."

"Oh...no...no that's okay." Tali shook her head, still looking down at her fiddling hands. "I don't want to impose on any one else...I...can wait..." Then, voice low. "...for a little while..."

This time Michael's chuckle was a bit more sincere. "You unselfish..._idiot_. Tali, _please_, tell me what's wrong."

The only answer was silence.

"Tali..." Moving closer Michael reached out, taking her gloved hands in his, raising them up between their faces, making her look up, meeting his eyes. "...talk to me."

For a moment she just stared at him...then her shoulders slumped as she looked away, a shaky sigh escaping her. "I received a message from the Flotilla..."

_Is her aunt dead_? _Her_ _father_? _Has the Flotilla been attacked_? _Does she have to go back_? _Will_ _she_..._return_? Holding back the storm of questions, Michael swallowed. "And...?"

"They..." Tali shuddered. "...have accused me of treason."

An explosion of air escaped Michael, a baffled laugh. "That's ridiculous!" He blinked, calming himself. "I mean...that's just not _possible_."

"Believe me..." Tali looked down at their hands as she lowered them, yet didn't release him. "...I checked several times..." A shaky breath. "...it's real."

"But..." Michael shook his head. "...you said they were okay with you coming with me. And back in the Flotilla...well...you told me much before, as well as during these last few weeks..._all_ you've told me tells me you've worked hard for them, more so then _any_ other Quarian. And I _know_ you, you _live_ for them, treason is...it can't be!"

"I know!" Tali snapped, her hands squeezing his tighter...before she looked up at him, voice soft. "Sorry...it's just..."

"You can't believe it." Michael finished for her, a lump in his throat. "They...didn't tell you why you're accused?"

"No." A soft shake of her head. "I have _no_ idea what it's about...I..." She released his hands, rubbing her palms as she lowered her head. "...I..." Then she shyly looked up at him, voice shaking. "...I'm scared..."

Michael stared at her, momentarily baffled. Tali wasn't a soldier, yet during their hunt for Saren she had never hesitated, never shied away from a fight...she was...fearless, _driven_. Yet a moment later he understood far too well. _For what drives her_? _Her love and devotion for her people_..._and_ _if_ _she_ _loses_ _them_...

"Don't...look like that." Tali, watching him as he paled with the horrifying realisation, shook her head, her voice a croak. "It...I just have to show up and...well..." A nervous little sigh. "...hope for the best."

Michael moved closer, voice hushed. "I'll change course immediately and-"

"No." Tali interrupted, shaking her head. "You told me about Mordin and Grunt...that's more important...more of an..._immediate_ concern."

_Unselfish_..._woman_! Michael growled, suddenly finding his hands on her shoulders. "This is important too! They can wai-"

Her gloved finger was suddenly on his lips, silencing him, more out bafflement at the touch than anything else, her silver eyes looking soft under her visor. "No. You wrote down the rules about how that list works, and we _both_ know Mordin and Grunt can't wait, this trial thing...can wait."

Michael stared at her, wanting to convince her, to tell her...all that was needed to be told to get her to make the selfish choice for _once_...

Yet under that silver gaze he found himself wavering, unable to find the words.

His hands moved down her arms, finally grasping her hands, gently kneading them as he looked into her eyes. "The _moment_ we're done with Tuchanka, we go to the Flotilla, you hear me?"

"I don't-" Tali's protest was cut short as Michael squeezed her hands tighter.

"You hear me?"

"I...hear you." A small laugh escaped Tali, small and vulnerable...but relieved.

And Michael, pushing his tiredness aside, wrapped an arm around her shoulders as he pulled her away from the console, intent on distracting her for a few hours...

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_Thanks to Abydos Jackson, for all._


	48. Chapter 48

Tuchanka was dangerous.

Not only did the place itself _look_ hostile, everything around them was nothing but crumbling ruins, dusty skeletons and ashes from great fires, but it also _was_ hostile. Not long ago Michael had seen a bush eat a Varren...he _had_ read about even the plant life being predatory on the planet...but seeing a _plant_ slowly rip such a large animal open and push its roots into the bloody content...that was something else.

Surviving in such a place for long would be a challenge to anyone.

And that was _before_ one took into account that the planet was inhabited by some of the most powerful and aggressive Krogan known to the _galaxy_.

Even inbound for clan Urdnot, another clan, who only spotted their shuttle by accident, had taken a few shots at it, with no other justification than that it was _there_! And when they had landed and stepped out, the _first_ thing they had heard had been the distant sound of thunder that apparently wasn't the weather at all...but the sound of artillery rounds constantly being exchanged between rival clans.

He had called in ahead, knowing not to be so foolish as to step foot on Urdnot territory without expressed permission. For although Michael trusted Wrex with his life, he wasn't so sure about the Krogan's followers, not to mention that they might simply shoot on sight as a standard procedure for all he knew.

It had been a wise decision.

For even now, with him having called ahead, and the Urdnot warriors ordered not to attack, hostility lingered in the air. _At least they're not trying to conceal it_... Michael warily watched one of the larger Krogan march past the moving group, a beady green eye glaring at each person in turn as the warrior moved past them.

No weapons were raised though, nor any insults shouted or gestures made. It was just a constant, silent disapproval of them being there; of the alien presence, of the _intrusion_. Mordin was receiving not only disapproving glares, but distrusting ones. It wasn't a publicly _confirmed_ fact that the Salarians' had created the genophage, but most rightly believed so...and to the Krogan, crippled as a race, that was enough to hold a grudge.

Garrus was receiving even worse looks, not only disapproving, but hostile...and some even _hungry_, as if the Krogan didn't want anything but to tear their arch enemy, a Turian, apart. Michael had been well aware of such a possibility, and had _tried_ to ask Garrus to stay behind...but after the débâcle on Aite, Garrus had _refused_ to stay behind.

So in they went, the whole team deployed as one, using numbers to incite some form of respect into the hostile Krogan. Yet, as they moved deeper into the tunnels and broken walls, Michael was feeling more and more as if he was leading the entire team into the lion's den. _The lion is a friend though_..._still_..._I_ _hope_...

Michael almost chuckled at himself, remembering how many times he'd taken such crazy risks...it really was a wonder he had only died _once_. He shrugged. _Eh, either it works out, or we'll be a __chewy__ meal for the lion_...

Glancing back, he noted how the others were reacting to the close scrutiny of their 'hosts'

Being picked out more so then most, Garrus and Mordin were reacting very differently. Garrus was glaring right back at the Krogan, practically _daring_ them to try his readiness. Mordin, on the other hand, didn't even seem to notice the hostility, the Salarian busy staring at the crumbling walls and various Krogan, fascinated as only a scientist can be.

Miranda and Jacob, on the other hand, looked nervous. Though either too haughty or too disciplined to show it overly, Michael could tell that the pair, members of a human-only organisation, weren't really comfortable being _surrounded_ by a species known for not holding a a trial when it came to executing terrorists. _At least Legion is still on the ship; bet the Krogan would __love__ tearing one of Saren's old allies apart_...

Grunt looked..._irritated_...he was looking around at the crumpling ruins, then the hostile Krogan...and whatever he saw...he was obviously not impressed.

Most others looked tense, but not overly frightened. Tali, for one, looked..._absent_, eyes straying left and right, shoulders slumped, not quite focused.

It was painful to see.

Yet Michael resisted the urge to turn, to talk, to hold, to do..._something_... He had done quite a lot of that on the ship, but it would be just a little unprofessional, not to mention dangerous with all the Krogan looking for weakness...and it also wouldn't really help in taking Tali's mind off the ridiculous charges against her. _Maybe seeing Wrex and such might help_...

Only _two_ seemed perfectly at ease with their surroundings.

Samara had her usual calm demeanour in her every step and the normal serene expression on her face. Calmly striding forward, as if she _owned_ the Urdnot base, she was watching it with just a hint of disapproval. Finally, she spoke, as if it was about nothing but the weather. "The Krogan of this planet know nothing but violence, they care nothing for the weak, law or order. If I survive our mission and become free of my oath to Shepard, I might return here to educate them." She eyed one of the walls, crudely repaired by bands of steel as large craters littered its cracked surface. "I will need a lot of bullets."

Curiously, Thane was walking right next to her. Neither of them spent much time with the rest of the crew, preferring to stay meditating in their chambers, sometimes accepting Michael when he came to pester them, wanting to make sure they were okay and the like. He _had_ pointed out that the two, despite being supposed to be enemies, were quite alike...but he hadn't thought either had actually acted upon it. Now, however, he wondered if they hadn't formed at least _some_ form of connection. The assassin was just as calm as Samara as he calmly noted. "It's in their nature, in a way, it is impressive, there _are_ no weak among them. It must be relaxing, to be like them, so confident of their role in the galaxy."

Samara considered the words, then nodded, once. "I suppose."

_Huh_.

Turning back to the path, Michael found the wide corridor they were in sloping upwards. Once it might have been stairs there, now it was nothing but rubble ground into gravel, and at the top a great chamber was opening up...

Moving up, Michael craned his head around...and stared.

The room was easily the size of an alliance hangar. The ceiling was here and there held up by old stone pillars, several damaged or outright smashed. In fact, if the ceiling hadn't sported a great hole in the middle, letting sunlight flood the otherwise nearly light-less room, Michael doubted the pillars would have been able to support its weight.

There were surprisingly few Krogan in the large room.

A few were lying on steel tables in a far off corner, writhing in pain while the one looking like a doctor largely ignored them. A few others were around a bonfire, jabbing metal spikes upon which they had speared some sort of monkey-like animal, into the fire._ Guess they like their meat well-done_... Even further ahead a few heavy-looking armoured vehicles stood, next to which a Krogan with a wrench the size of his arm waved it threateningly at half a dozen guffawing Krogan whose armour was still splattered with blood and scorched by fire from some battle.

Michael's gaze was drawn to the short end of the chamber that was closest to them. There was a raised dais there, the rubble around it largely pushed to the sides for easy access. Upon it sat _Wrex_, on a surprisingly intact throne of stone.

Michael found a smile stealing its way to his face as he moved closer, watching the Krogan wearily shake his head as a slightly shorter Krogan strode back and forth before him, speaking rapidly about something Wrex was obviously finding to be a stupid waste of his time.

Michael couldn't stop himself. "Wrex!" He called out, already striding up upon the dais.

The Krogan's head whipped round, eyes instantly focused on Michael.

And then he was on his feet, the corner of his lips twitching even as the other Krogan tried to regain his attention.

A violent shove...and the other Krogan dropped to the floor while Wrex stalked forth, right hand shooting out to grasp Michael's in a vice. "Shepard!" Now the Krogan grinned. "Heard you died; had a drink in your honour."

"I did." Michael shrugged, in too good a mood to let the memory bother him. "Got better...guess that means I owe you a drink, huh?"

"I had a feeling death couldn't hold you." The Krogan released Michael's arm, but didn't step back as he held Michael's gaze, scrutinizing him for a moment, then he nodded. "It is good to have you back." Then he looked over Michael's shoulder, chuckling. "You expected trouble? Good, Tuchanka _is_ trouble." Behind him, the other Krogan had gotten to his feet, eyes shooting daggers at Wrex's back, which Wrex calmly ignored as he eyed Michael's mismatched group. "Tali, Garrus...guess I shouldn't be surprised to see you two back with Shepard, huh?"

"_I_ certainly am." Tali muttered, a hint of amusement in her voice, making Michael's shoulder slump in relief, if only a bit.

Garrus chuckled. "Hey, old man, still ugly, I see."

A fond smile appeared on Wrex's lips, a rare sight, he _had_ missed them. "Says the man that looks like he swallowed a bullet."

"Heh, I _did_, tasted like raw meat..." Garrus chuckled. "...or maybe that was me...I'll tell you all about it later."

"Just like old times." The Krogan nodded, then looked back to Michael as he nodded towards his throne. "Now, come, let's get down to business."

Michael followed the plodding Krogan towards the throne, smirking. "Business? Maybe I'm here for pleasure?"

"The tourist board could use some work, though." Garrus interjected with a chuckle.

Chuckling as well, shooting Garrus a smile, Michael continued. "Or just to see you? I'm not sure about the protocol, but coming back to the dead probably requires more then a simple message."

A rumble escaped Wrex, and only when he turned did Michael realise that it was the Krogan softly laughing. Turning his crimson eyes back to Michael, Wrex eased back in his throne. "Come now, Shepard, I know you. You weren't reawakened on a whim, you're up to something, probably pursuing the Reapers...and you are _here_ for a _reason_."

"Well..." Michael rubbed the back of his head, feeling a little awkward. "...I _am_ pursuing the Reapers..._and_ I'm here for a reason...not that I'm not happy to-"

"I know." Wrex raised a clawed hand, silencing Michael. "You and duty go hand in hand...and if I can help you against the Reapers, I will."

"What?" The other Krogan looked sharply at Wrex, gesturing at Michael and his team. "You're going to help these aliens? Ignoring traditions is bad enough, but _this_...this is _not_ the Krogan way."

Wrex glared at the other Krogan. "Hold your tongue, Uvenk, here _I_ rule." Looking back to Michael, Wrex cocked his head to the side. "So, what can I do for you?"

"Actually...first..." Michael looked around himself. "What are you doing? I thought you gave up the idea of saving your people after things went violent with your father?"

Silence.

Then Wrex shifted on the throne, leaning forward, face serious as he eyed Michael. "After we destroyed Saren's base on Virmire, and with it, the cure for the genophage..." The Krogan named Uvenk growled something under his breath, something Michael and Wrex both ignored. "...my eyes were opened. Krogan do _not_ look for quick fixes, they survive hardships as they always do. All life must adapt to survive changing circumstances, and we are no different. And I'll be damned before I let the rest of my kind die out because the fools won't recognise this. I _will_ drag us into a new age, or I'll die trying with the rest of the Krogan." He nodded to himself, voice a low growl. "As it should be."

"And the other Krogan..." Michael shot Uvenk a glance. "...accept this?"

"Those that aren't too thick-headed, yes." Wrex shrugged. "It's not like I have united all clans under the Urdnot banner yet, but I _will_." There was an intense glow in his eyes now, eyes _fixed_ on Michael. "The battle of Virmire didn't only open _my_ eyes, Shepard. I wouldn't expect any Krogan to _thank_ you for what you did, but many Krogan recognise that hundreds of their kind bowed knee to Saren, a _Turian_ of all things, in exchange for a cure." A low growl escaped Wrex at that. "We were slaves for the Council once. That so many were ready to become slaves for another master back then shocked many, showing us how far we had fallen."

Silence, Wrex pausing, eyes distant, considering his own words. _He's been thinking a lot about this_...

"So you're proceeding with that plan you had before your father? Spending a generation mating, let your numbers grow?" Michael tried, _still_ finding the subject a little awkward. Krogan didn't seem to put the same emotional weight on mating, it was nothing special, like eating.

"It's more then that." Wrex dully replied. "I won't change the Krogan, our ways are what make us strong, but I will change the way we look at these ways, of our _understanding_ of them. If I succeed, the Krogan will be reborn, stronger then ever." Suddenly, a smirk stole its way to the Krogan's face, something clever in his eyes as he looked at Michael. "And then...we might be of help to you against these Reapers..."

Michael blinked. "Wait...what? You're just offering...?"

A quick glance to the side, and he realised Uvenk was staring in equal shock and horror.

Wrex chuckled though. "What? You think Krogan will say no to fighting a threat to their existence, a threat that will be one hell of a fight? Ha!" A slow shake of his head. "No, if I succeed...we'll be ready."

"I...thank you." Michael blinked, surprised by how moved he was by the words of his friend, yet not foolish enough to show it before Krogan, especially not the less than friendly Uvenk.

"Now...what can I do for you?" Wrex's eyes moved over the group at Michael's back. "Something involving...who is that?"

Looking back, Michael saw Grunt looking straight back at Wrex, his blue eyes intense with curiosity. "This? Grunt. He's actually one of the reasons for us being here...he seems to be sick with something, making him overly aggressive." Uvenk snorted, making Michael and Grunt both shoot him a glare. "I was hoping you could help."

"Ah, yes, helping your squad, sounds like you..." Rising, Wrex slowly moved down to their level, eyes fixed on the other Krogan. "And you..." A sniff. "...I don't recognise your scent, what clan are you? Who are your parents? And why didn't they tell you what was expected of you?"

"I have no clan and I have no parents." Grunt retorted, not looking away from Wrex as the older Krogan towered over him. "I was tank-bred by warlord Okeer to be the perfect Krogan."

"Perfect..." Wrex sniffed...then smirked. "Ah yes...old scents in you, he added traits from legendary warriors, did he not? _No one_ is perfect, child, Okeer should have understood that decades ago."

"He's dead." Grunt growled.

"Then he didn't learn the lesson in time." Wrex turned away, throwing Michael a look. "For a tank-bred to take the rite...the clan always needs new blood...but..."

"You cannot be serious!" Uvenk gasped...only for his mouth to slam shut when Wrex turned to glare at him.

"I told you to hold your tongue." Wrex snorted, then looked back to Michael. "Well...I owe you, and our clan always needs new blood." He turned, eyeing Grunt. "So what say you, child? Will you take the rite of passage, becoming a full adult, a proud member of clan Urdnot?"

"Ah, ritual for hormonal release, not uncommon by species with hormonal driven growth." Mordin babbled. "Fascinating."

The others ignored him.

"A...rite?" Michael spoke, doubt in his voice. "And that will...stop whatever is bothering him?"

"It's just him needing a release." Wrex replied, not taking his eyes off Grunt. "Now, what do you say?"

Grunt threw Michael a questioning look...who shrugged. "This is _your_ choice, buddy."

"Then I accept." Grunt looked back to Wrex, chin held high. "I will prove myself."

"Good boy." Wrex clapped Grunt's shoulder, looking satisfied. "And it looks like you've chosen your Krantt to accompany you..." He looked over at Michael, his smile worryingly amused. "...can't say that I'm surprised. Shepard, take him to the Shaman upstairs, he will instruct you in the particulars of the rite and lead you were you need to go."

"I suppose we'll do this first then..." Michael looked over at Mordin, who fretted a bit, but shrugged, accepting it. "Miranda, you and Zaeed go look for weapons, I'm sure the Krogan have some we can use for our mission. The rest of you...keep together, but enjoy yourselves." He looked over at Tali, Garrus hovering close to her, as if he too sensed her being distraught. "I'm guessing Garrus and Tali will stay here and share war-stories with Wrex...if he doesn't mind?"

"You're kidding?" Wrex shot Michael a look. "A moment to get away from these thick-headed idiots would be worth gold."

"Good, then it's settled." Ignoring the uneasy feeling Michael had gotten from Wrex's amused look, Michael turned to Grunt. "Now, let's go get this little rite over with..."

8

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8

"That was awesome!" Grunt grinned, eyes wide, teeth bared.

Walking next to him, Michael grimaced as he rubbed off a smear of orange blood across his chest. "It was fun...though did it _have_ to be so gory? I swear, some of that acid is still in the joints of my armour..."

Around them, the few Krogan they passed looked at them, a mixture of awe and irritation on their faces...it was an enjoyable change. Grunt, still hyped from the battle, waved his hands about, laughing. "And when its head exploded...wow! The rush of it! That creature never stood a chance!"

"Well...yeah." Michael grinned back, the annoyance with the 'rite' _tiny_ compared to the satisfaction of their victory. "That _was_ great, nice toss, by the way."

"Ha! Couldn't have done it without you!" Grunt exclaimed, only to calm down, nodding to himself. "No...that's it!" He shone up, excited. "I _couldn't_! That's the lesson!"

"Ha!" Michael shook his head, smiling. "I suppose it's good to-"

Tali.

_Uh_ _oh_...

Finding his voice failing, Michael stared at the Quarian suddenly standing in front of him, her arms crossed over her chest, as were Miranda's as she stood next to Tali, looking equally peeved.

"So..." Tali growled. "...I hear you had _fun_..."

"Erm...yes...nothing too troubling..." Michael replied, awkwardly rubbing the back of his head, knowing he was in for it.

"A Thresher Maw isn't troubling?" Tali snapped, left hand shooting out to give Michael's head a smack. "Are you _insane_!"

"Hey! It was part of the ritual!" Michael replied, retreating.

"And if it was part of the ritual to shoot yourself, you'd do that too!" Tali continued, pursuing him, silvery eyes slits.

"Hey! I've killed dozens of those things!"

"From the _Mako_!" Tali growled, one hand on Michael's chest, pressing his back into the wall, the other waging a finger in Michael's face. "I'm sick of you taking these risks!"

"Hey...it wouldn't be me otherwise." Michael replied, trying a big smile as he held up his hands. "Besides..." He reached down, hands ending on Tali's shoulders as he tried a white lie. "...I didn't take much of a risk, stayed in cover and all that jazz..."

Grunt chuckled. "Tell her about how you punched it..."

The hand on Michael's chest curled into a fist, her voice low. "Punched...it...?"

"W-well...it lunged at me...got close...figured I'd convince it to move back..." Michael offered, smile nervous.

Tali stared at him, the finger aimed at his face still, then dropping down as she lowered her head, her voice an exasperated, if a little amused, sigh. "Why do I even try...?" She looked up at him. "You're impossible, you know that, right?"

Michael chuckled. "And that's why you lo-"

His voice died, the amusement turning into burning awkwardness as he looked away, feeling Tali's hand leave his chest as she did the same.

Awkward.

_Good work, idiot, __really_...

Further off, Miranda was shaking her head, looking over at Grunt. "So I suppose this makes you stable? Feeling perfect yet?"

"Heh." The Krogan shook his head at the awkward couple ahead before he shrugged at Miranda. "Perfection doesn't exist, you can only strive for it, I should have understood that ages ago."

Miranda blinked, then nodded, gaze distant. "Yes...quite right."

If he _could_, Michael would have smiled at the sight of the Krogan educating Miranda in philosophy...

But he could only stand there, cheeks flushed, embarrassed and unable to move.

_Well, at least this will distract her from the whole treason thing_...

The thought didn't help.

_Kill me now_...

8

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_Thanks to Abydos Jackson for her patience, and the rest of you, I suppose. :-p_


	49. Chapter 49

Michael was frustrated.

A Krogan hospital was heavily reinforced; doors of heavy steel, lines upon lines of barricades, bunkers, sniping lookouts, electrified gates...all of it was designed to keep badly wounded Krogan patients, having descended into their blood-rage, contained.

As such, it also worked _annoyingly_ well at turning an assault from even a potent team into a crawl. Krogan, Varren, Vorcha, the filthy place was _crawling_ with them, like roaches, thinking themselves kings over their miserable little castle.

The Krogan weren't fools either, they _knew_ how to use it as such, and everywhere the team went they had met heavy resistance from the defenders.

And it was all so _pointless_! Michael _knew_ his team by now, every strength and weakness had been assessed and merged to form a cohesive force, a force multiplier, a _spear_. Michael had faced _far_ stronger threats in his days, without such a team, these Krogan surely knew it, too, yet they resisted, as Krogan always did.

Michael felt no respect for it, only _scorn_, and _frustration_!

_Idiots, the lot of them_,_ they'll just get themselves killed, which will leave less people to fight the Reapers_..._Maelon better be worth this_...

It was odd, but they hadn't been on Tuchanka long, less then a day in fact, yet already he was eager to leave. For he was frustrated with the Varren, of the constant sound of artillery, of the bloody _Krogan_...mostly, he was frustrated with _himself_.

Behind him, Tali followed, silent, as the others, yet he _felt_ her silence like no other._ I can't believe what I almost said_...

It was stupid, awkward, and only made their situation even _worse_! And _why_ would he be so foolish as to put additional stress on her when she was already troubled by the charges laid against her!

Ahead, the large door slid open, a welcome change of pace from the constant locked ones.

Michael didn't care though, he stalked forward, eyes shooting lightning at the welcoming party arrayed before him, not impressed. He had seen them position themselves via deep scans from the floor above, after all.

The room was massive, the far end raised high, the low wall there acting as a railing...and great cover for the many Krogan and Vorcha lining it. Most of the lower part, upon which he and half his team had entered, was walled off by many heavy boxes, these too acting like a wall, behind which a dozen more Vorcha stood at the ready, ruby eyes glaring at the team.

_Well_..._they've stood here for half an hour, guess they want to talk_. Holding up a hand to stop the rest of the team, Miranda, Tali, Mordin and Grunt sliding to a halt, Michael stepped forth, eyes fixed upon the white-armoured Krogan appearing on the raised part of the wall before him. "You, give up Maelon, _now_."

The Krogan guffawed. "Ha! You think we fear _you_! You've faced nothing but our youngest warriors! The ones here are battle-hardened-"

"I don't care." Michael snapped, his fingers drumming on his thigh. "You _should_ fear me, I've killed more things than I can remember and if you're not careful you'll become nothing but another footnote, so why don't you give me the Salarian, _now_?"

_I want this over with, I want to go back to the Normandy, I want to take a hot shower and tell myself I didn't say such a stupid thing, then I want to go to the Flotilla and make things right_..._and you are in my way_. Michael's eyes narrowed.

The Krogan merely shook his head though, not afraid of the puny force assembled before him. "We know who you are! That will only make our victory all the sweeter! And when the Salarian cures the Genophage your _skull_ will decorate the front of our mightiest ship-"

"How about this?" Michael interrupted with a weary sigh. "You get two..._chances_." Even with Garrus on the floor above, Michael could _feel_ the Turian's grimace. "Give up Maelon, or I will grind this hospital and your entire pathetic clan into dust and piss on the ashes..."

Silence.

The many Krogan exchanged glances, the Vorcha scratching their heads in confusion.

Then their leader laughed. "Bwahahaha! I _like_ you! You have a quad! Though empty talk will not-"

"You think I'm kidding?" Michael interrupted, a frustrated growl emanating from deep in his chest as he took a step closer, pointing a finger at the creature. "Second chance; I want the Salarian _here_..." He pointed at the floor before him. "..._now_."

The Krogan grinned, leaning atop the wall he stood behind. "Oh _this_, I have to see...try it, human, make your move..."

Michael arched an eyebrow, gaze moving over the many enemies assembled, so confident in their position...and sighed as he whispered into his helmet. "Garrus, now."

With that, he ran, _backwards_, the others following, leaping for the doorway, drawing several laughs from the assembled Krogan.

Laughs cut short as the ceiling collapsed.

For all the strength of a Krogan hospital, it _wasn't_ a military building, and a shaped charge from the floor above was all that was needed to make the cracked floor give way.

With a resounding crash, boulders _twice_ the size of the Krogans bellow came tumbling down, instantly shattering the lower wall of arrayed boxes, smashing several of the Vorcha behind it into a pulp. One took a Krogan on the upper level in the head, tearing it off and sending the body hurtling over the broken cover. The Krogan leader stumbled, a boulder bouncing off his shoulder with a loud snap of bones breaking as those around him became crushed, dazed or pinned under the sudden assault.

A moment later the rest of the team appeared. Thane's sniper rifle cracked from the great hole in the ceiling, felling the one Krogan that had escaped somewhat unscathed. Next to his dark shape, Samara appeared, her body aglow with biotic energy as she slowly hovered downwards, biotic energy lashing out at the nearest Vorcha, crushing its head against a wall.

Jack didn't match Samara's slow and regal descent...instead she was nothing but a purple blur, hurtling down like a missile. Her small frame crashed into two Krogan, heavy boots aglow with power smashing them both to the floor before an explosion of biotic energy tore them both apart.

And from the edges of the great hole the others leapt, their bodies concealed by the cloud of dust from the blast as they rappelled down. To the far right, Kasumi landed, the black spike in her gauntlet a blur before it struck the floor...and the Vorcha that she had landed next to fell apart, split in two. The Krogan next to her turned, shotgun raised...only for the blast to come from Jacob's shotgun as the man came down, the shot tearing half the creature's head off.

Far above, Garrus came rappelling down, the Turian's left foot impacting heavily with the white-armoured Krogan's chest, knocking him onto his back before he had time to get his bearings, a growl emanated from the Krogan as he stared up at the Turian...

Then the other shoe dropped, Garrus' armoured heel crashing into the Krogan's left eye with the sound of tearing flesh, the Krogan's cry of agony was cut short though as Garrus jammed his vindicator rifle into his foe's mouth and pulled the trigger.

Right in front of Michael, two Vorcha cried out as they were caught in an explosion of fire, a moment later Zaeed landed between them, casually shouldering the burning creatures aside as he poured a round of shots into the chest of a third one.

More of them were pulling themselves out of the debris around the man, hissing as they moved to attack...only for Michael and the rest of the distraction team to take a step forward and line up their shots. A moment later the Vorcha were falling around the mercenary, a mercenary aiming up to quickly finish off a lone Vorcha that was lunging at Garrus.

A growl...and Michael turned his head in time to see Tali's armoured foot shoot forth with startling speed...smashing right into the neck of a Varren that had leapt at his flank. A yelp...and the creature was slammed into what little remained of the wall before them, pinned between the hard stone and Tali's boot. Something akin to a hiss escaped the Quarian...and her shotgun did the rest of the talking, ripping the Varren's skull into bloody pulp.

Then...silence.

"Impressive." Michael grinned at Tali. "I didn't know you were much for hand-to-hand combat."

She turned her head, looking at him, slowly, almost gently, removing her foot from the Varren's corpse...and not saying a word.

Michael found himself swallowing, the silver eyes boring into him were full of...thoughts, and he didn't know which way they were going. Shaking himself he looked away, forcing a grin. "All of you! You put Asari Commandos to shame!"

There were a few embarrassed looks, mostly eye-rolling answered his words though. "I..." Samara bowed her head even as Thane softly landed next to her. "...can vouch for that. Now..." She looked back up at Michael, face as serene as if she were simply taking a stroll. "...should we proceed? I believe we're getting closer."

Throwing Tali a final, awkward look, Michael nodded. "Yes, let's..."

8

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8

"Wait." Garrus spoke before he knew he had even taken a step forward, putting a hand on Mordin's shoulder.

Mordin stopped, arm shaking as he held the pistol under Maelon's jaw, the _traitor's_ jaw.

Yet..._was_ he a traitor? Even _Michael_ had voiced hesitation about the righteousness to sterilize the Krogan...and Mordin's counterarguments, however strongly voiced and powerful...was tinged with pain and hesitation, of a desperate _need_ to convince. And not to convince _them_, but _himself_.

Once, Garrus would have agreed with Mordin, the Krogan _were_ violent beasts, brutal and bent on conquest.

But Garrus had worked alongside Wrex for too long, spoken to Grunt, the first always pained, however much he tried to hide it, about the genophage, the other, a _consequence_ of it. The Krogan had born so many scars...they had fought the Rachni for the Council, Wrex had been _instrumental_ in saving the _galaxy_...and Garrus had realised they were more then beasts bent on war, that there was _philosophy_ behind their cruel exterior.

Yet they remained hated, scorned as brute beasts, those employing them as mercenaries seeing them as _expendable_...they could be likened as _Varren_ in public without anyone batting an eye!

And now they had seen Tuchanka. Yes, it had been so brutal _before_ the Salarians had found them, yes, the Krogan still slaughtered one another upon its cracking surface. Yet what they had seen here...it was tinged with such _desperation_. To see Krogan seeing _themselves_ as expendable to cure their sickness, sacrificing themselves to defend their keep against an unstoppable force, on the operation table...it was horrifying, reminding Garrus of doctor Saleon...

Yet here the doctor _hadn't _acted out of malice and greed, here he had honestly tried to help the people _volunteering_ to the operation table...it made all the difference in the world.

"Why?" Mordin snapped, arm still shaking, ready to shoot, to lash out...Garrus knew far too well the struggle of wants within Mordin about what he wanted to do with the Salarian in front of him. "Cruel experiments, _killed_ with medicine, working _against_ project, risking galactic peace and a _traitor_! Must end him."

"You never...thought about doing this, then?" Michael was further back, his voice soft as he took a step forward. "To undo all of this...no matter the cost? You yourself say the ends justify the means..."

Mordin flinched, as if struck. "I...never." He turned his head, large eyes staring at Michael. "Some means must not be used, or we are nothing but beasts..." An uncharacteristic pause as the Salarian's mind moved. "This...there is no excuse..." He looked away, over at the many operation tables lining the tables, Krogan dead lying atop them, their torsos opened and organs neatly displayed. "...for _any_ of this..."

Silence, the others in the group staring at the bloodied remains lying in the operation room, some of them pale as ghosts, others grim and cold.

"We did what we had to do!" Mordin's voice rose, harsh and different from his usual babbling, his head snapped back as he glared at Maelon, the pistol pressing against the other Salarian's neck. "You _knew_ this!"

Maelon swallowed...but didn't look away, voice raspy. "K-keep...t-telling yourself that..."

A low hiss escaped Mordin...and Garrus gripped the Salarian a bit tighter. "Mordin...don't you think there's been enough blood? He thought he did wrong before..." Garrus watched Mordin's shoulders shake...and suddenly remembered how Michael had told him how _easy_ it had been to get Mordin to join them in a possible suicidal mission...to abandon his work on a free clinic to risk his life for a people he knew little of...and it all made sense. "...and he's _trying_ to make it right now, can't you..._sympathise_ with this? Can't you give him a second chance? A chance to make things..._right_?"

Silence.

Mordin's entire body shook beneath Garrus' hand, the pistol trembling.

Then he lowered it. "Yes." He took a step back...and the shaking stopped as Mordin straightened, some of the strain gone from his voice. "Get out, Maelon, don't care where, just go."

"What? Just...like that?" Maelon stared at Mordin. "Not going to have the rest going after me?"

"No, go." Mordin snapped, shrugging and gesturing at the door.

Maelon stared at Mordin, then at the rest of the group...and then ran away.

Not bothering to even look after the running doctor, Michael stepped up next to Garrus. "You okay?"

"I will be." Mordin muttered, already sounding calmer as he turned to look at the large computer screen before which Maelon had worked on. "Need to focus, Maelon's work on this computer, only loose end, would be wise to...unsure. Destroying it would be safe, would make all sacrifices and suffering here wasted, though. Keeping would be risky, potential leak to Krogan groups could start wars..."

"That research is filthy." Garrus grimaced, letting go of the doctor as he exchanged a look with Michael. "Covered in the blood of these experiments...it's tainted, destroy it."

A hum escaped Michael...and he looked down at the floor as he shook his head. "And destroying it makes the sacrifices of these people useless...that's even more disrespectful." He looked over at Garrus, frowning. "The Krogan aren't beasts to stay neutered, we both know this." Garrus found himself inclining his head in agreement...only to freeze as Michael continued. "And we _need_ the Krogan in the future..."

Leaning closer, Garrus felt himself go cold as he whispered. "A moral stance made out of a calculating need for allies...that's a dangerous path to take, Michael...you know what happens to those that do that..."

Michael met his gaze, uncertainty in his eyes...then steel filled them, and he looked over at Mordin. "You don't have to do anything with it, just hang on to it, for now."

Garrus stared at Michael, suddenly worried, but the man didn't look back as he watched Mordin move his omni-tool over the screen, voice now calm. "Point taken, downloading and deleting local copy...there, done, ready to leave."

"Good, then we can leave." Michael said, sounding relieved, despite Garrus' stare.

"Not to alarm you...but I think that fire we started is spreading..." Kasumi suddenly muttered, sniffing the air.

"Then we leave a little faster then intended..." Michael snorted, gesturing for the door. "So move!"

And so, lead by Michael, they ran.

Never once did he look back at Garrus.

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"Wow...that fire just kept going, didn't it?" Kasumi remarked as the group stood on a field, watching the Krogan hospital crumble into nothing as the internal fires and explosions took out the bearing walls that remained of the ruins, bringing the whole place down.

Black smoke now rose from the rubble, flakes of ash like a powder as it covered the old stones of the totalled ruin. Michael nodded. "Yes, and good riddance." Behind him, he felt Garrus and Tali _both_ look at him...and he didn't dare turn.

He was feeling more and more awkward with Tali, the word he'd almost said seemingly lingering between them, echoing. As for Garrus...the words of the Turian reminded Michael far too much about how Saren had done anything to gain power and help Sovereign, of Cerberus, of himself before Tali had broken him down.

Was he now returning to that? Cold calculations, hidden behind a smile, all to gain more power in his battle against the Reapers? And if he did _anything_ to win them over, even play with the fate of entire _races_, to do so...what differentiated him from them?

Don't think about it.

Instead he smirked, watching the ashes of the hospital as he remembered something. "Oh...right...we'll leave soon guys, I just have something that needs to be done..." He moved towards the ruins, holstering his pistol.

"And what's that?" Miranda sighed, the woman unsurprisingly annoyed with the delay.

"Just fulfilling my part of the agreement." Michael chuckled, hands moving down as he muttered a command into his helmet, releasing the seal to his codpiece. "The clan didn't hand over Maelon, now they have to feel the consequence."

"Oh for crying out...Michael!" Garrus cried out in disgust, not that he could see anything with Michael's back to them, but the mental image was probably working well enough.

"Keelah..." Tali muttered, making Michael blush, despite keeping himself covered from the group's prying eyes as he fumbled the under-suit of his armour open.

Grunt's voice was a rumbling laugh. "See? _This_ is why I love this guy!"

Jack was also _clearly_ amused. "Ha! That'll show those fuckers!" Zaeed simply chuckled.

Michael just shrugged, hands moving to pull himself free and aim down at the rubble before him. "Hey, I didn't make the rules. Now shut up and let me concentrate."

Silence.

Then the shuffling of Garrus moving to join him. "Dammit, now _I_ have to go too!" He shot Michael a grin. "You're a bad influence."

Michael smirked...and then looked away and sighed. "Ahhhh..."

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_Thanks to Abydos Jackson for putting up with me._


	50. Chapter 50

"Legion." Michael sat down. Still in the storage room, still behind a force field, when it wasn't allowed out on the ship under armed escort, the machine observed Michael from where it stood. "I hope you didn't mind staying behind?"

"You cannot show Geth allies to certain groups, we understand, Shepard-Commander." Legion inclined its head. "We must, however, remind you that we would better.."

"...aid me if you were allowed to fight, yes." Michael finished with a sigh, rubbing his temple. "You realise that I'm still very..._iffy_ about trusting you, right? Even after your assistance on Aite and all...I have a responsibility to my team and crew, okay?"

"Apologies are unnecessary." Legion inclined its head, observing Michael, almost looking...curious. "We trust your judgement."

"My judgement? Despite me locking you up!" Michael asked, curious even as he knew he was just postponing the inevitable, talking to Legion was necessary, yes, but then he would have to go to talk to Tali...

He wanted to do that, _desperately_, to distract her now that they were closing in on the Flotilla...

Yet he _didn't_ want to go, fearing where the discussion might go, what she might say...

Legion didn't seem to notice his internal struggle, the machine calm. "You are acting on old data, but which feels valid to you, we accept this, as we accept the hardware within organics that tells them to fear the unknown, to fear us." Michael blinked. "Changes to this do not come fast, nor from us. It is upon the organics to control this fear, for you to accept new data, therefore we wait until such a time, our patience is nearly limitless."

Michael watched the machine, reluctantly impressed._ Must be strange, to be so devoid of preconceptions_..._of the emotions steering the rest of us_. He also felt a little jealous._ If only I was like that I'd never be in this situation_... He regretted the thought instantly though, for all the pain and uncertainty...it was worth it. "_Nearly_ limitless?"

"When the Reapers reach us, and if organics have not yet accepted us, we will move to fight the Reapers, forcing the organics to either accept or fight us." Legion replied, as if he was speaking of nothing but the weather. "We cannot stand idle at that point."

"Guess we have something in common then." Michael chuckled, shaking his head at the thought of what would happen when they appeared. _Utter chaos_... "Hope they accept you, might not do so at first, but...well...you have to break a few eggs to make an omelet."

Legion stood silent, observing Michael, plates around the eyes clacking against its hull. "You are suggesting that if a few people die during the initial fighting, before they come to accept our aid, it will be worth it." The plates stopped moving. "We are conflicted whether we agree."

"You are?" Michael stared, momentarily baffled. "Why?"

A pause, then Legion cocked its head to the side. "First; does Shepard-commander understand how Geth work?"

"Yes, more or less...a race of programs that gain complexity through interaction...what did you call it, many eyes looking at the same thing?"

"Yes." Legion leant forward, almost looking...intense. "Our existence cannot be likened to anything you organics perceive, making it difficult to explain...but all Geth that are linked can be likened as one..._life_...only by complexity do we gain sentience, and a joined network is, in essence, _one_ sentience."

"I'm not sure I understand what you're getting at here..." Michael frowned.

"_We_ are one, _you_ are many. The simile of 'Legion', as you named this unit, is incorrect. We are many programs creating one lifeform, you are many lifeforms." Legion went silent, its chest emanating a computer's thinking sounds. "If one life – the Geth, kill many lives – several organics, the net result is a loss."

"Wha..." Michael stared. "...but...if these deaths lead to you saving the galaxy, you have saved _millions_ of lives."

"That is where we're conflicted." Legion cocked its head to the side. "This is correct, but we dislike killing organic life, it does not aid our mission of being accepted by them." Another pause. "We have achieved consensus, we would accept some organic deaths to save the many."

Michael stared at the machine, unable to link such gentle, almost _pacifistic_ thinking, with the machine before him, machines he had fought for so long...

For a moment his hand drifted to the button to the side, to release the Geth from its prison.

Then he pulled away. "So...if you think like this...why did you defend yourself from the Quarians?"

"We did not yet have the sophistication to think this at that time." Legion instantly replied, then hesitated. "However, we _did_ know that we were a sentient species, while one Geth network is one life, it is also a species. All sentient species have a right to exist, so we defended our existence."

"So you had the sophistication to realise your own rights as a species...?" Michael asked, more and more confused.

"No." Legion stated.

Michael, leaning forward, cocked his head to the side. "Then, if you _didn't_...how did you know you had it?"

A stuttering sound escaped Legion...then it leaned back. "The Creators told us."

Silence.

Then Michael moved back, feeling uneasy. _This isn't for me to ask about_..._this_..._this is something __I__shouldn't__ ask about_. "I...thank you, Legion, I have to go though, talk to you later?"

"Have we made you uncomfortable?" Legion looked over at him, taking a step forward.

"Yes...a little." Michael rubbed the back of his head, still retreating. "You're just very...alien to me...sorry...erm...it's not you, it's me?"

"We understand, it's programmed in your flesh." Legion nodded, taking a step back. "We will be ready for you when you are more comfortable."

"I...erm...thank you?" Michael moved back, then out the door, guilty over the relief he felt at the door closing before him. "Jeez..." He huffed, lowering his head. "...hope Tali doesn't bring _that_ up!"

_Tali_...

Turning, Michael's feet moved automatically, driving him towards Engineering even as he felt his heart thump painfully in his chest.

_I don't want to have this conversation_..._or_ _I_ _do_..._or_..._dammit_...

Then he found a door opening before him, and Daniels' and Donnelly's backs facing him.

_Dammit, have to get rid of them, so I can_...

He swallowed.

_I_..._dammit_, _think_ _Michael_, _think_!

His mind drew a blank.

Then he heard Donnelly speak...and found his eyes narrowing. "So what do you think about our Quarian boss? She has quite a lovely..._suit_...doesn't she?"

Michael's eye twitched.

"Hush, man, she's right over there." Gabriella half-serious said, though looked expectantly at Kenneth, knowing more would come.

"I'm just saying, it's quite...snug, isn't it? _Very_ cute...wonder how long it takes to peel off?"

_Hands_ twitched.

"I'm not really interested in that..." Gabriella sighed and rubbed her forehead.

"I'm only saying that it's very _flattering_...I imagine quite a few _male_ Quarians back home missing her..." Michael grit his teeth. "...you think they'll-"

"_Aaaatteeention_!" Michael found himself barking, his voice not his own, rather that of a drill sergeant.

Both spun round, hands flying up in salute, stances rigid. Though their eyes drifted momentarily to Michael...and Kenneth visibly paled as he stared straight ahead, Gabriella risked shooting him a smirk...only to also pale as Michael shot her a glare.

Michael fumed, but said nothing, letting his gaze wander between the two disrespectful and now profusely sweating engineers.

Then he clasped his hands behind his back, stepping closer to Donnelly, his height meaning the engineer was staring into Michael's chest. "Engineer Donnelly..." His voice was calm, almost _pleasant_.

It only made the engineer pale even further. "Y-yes sir?"

"I'm sure you're aware that we're approaching the Flotilla?"

"Y-yes?"

"Between Mass Relay jumps, as it is?"

Kenneth frowned, perplexed and nervous in equal measure. "Yes...?"

Michael didn't _have_ to act according to the books, this wasn't an Alliance ship, but a Cerberus vessel. But to punish someone for a few private words would seem petty. And Michael preferred to be more..._creative_ with his solutions. "These are a non-Citadel race who hae had little contact with us, and I wish to make a good impression."

"Sir." Donnelly simply said, some of the paleness fading as Michael gave him time to calm down.

"Unfortunately, it seems that with all the combat drops, small meteors and such...the Normandy looks quite scuffed, the paint's been worn down, you see..." Michael kept his tone sweet, enjoying watching the man squirm.

"I...yes sir." Donnelly replied, arching an eyebrow in question.

"We can't have that when we're about to visit the Quarians, so I'd like you to go paint it."

"Sir...paint...the Normandy?" Donnelly asked, confused.

"That's right." Michael smiled, waiting for the inevitable questions.

"Wouldn't that be easier...in the Flotilla dry-docks?" Gabriella ventured...and when Michael shot her a friendly-looking glance, added. "Sir?"

"Well...that would defeat the purpose of leaving a good impression...wouldn't it?" Michael replied, looking back to Donnelly. "So I'd like Kenneth here to go ahead and paint it up."

"Are we stopping on the way...sir?" Donnelly asked, still confused.

Michael's smile turned into a grin. "Unfortunately no...there's not enough time." Donnelly's eyes widened. "But don't worry, a space suit, magnetic clamps and a large supply of instant-paint and it'll be done in _no_ time."

"No ti-" Donnelly spluttered. "It'll take _hours_!"

"Maybe." Michael replied, shrugging as he offered a sweet smile. "But I know you're up to the task. After all, you're one who..._appreciates_...aesthetics of things...aren't you?"

"Kenneth's eyes guiltily glanced over at Tali, but then became glued back to Michael's chest. "Y-yes sir..."

"Erm..." Gabriella dared, a hint of a smirk on her lips. "...aren't we just two hours away from the next Relay...?"

Michael smiled at her...then let it darken as he turned his gaze upon Donnelly. "Yes, yes we are."

The man swallowed. "S-sir?"

"I'd advice you to work fast." Michael said.

There was no way he'd let Donnelly be stuck outside when they made the jump, the man would be torn to pieces...but apparently Donnelly wasn't so sure, _especially_ not with the harsh smile boring down at him.

Michael leant a little closer, voice a whisper. "_Really_ fast."

"Yes sir!" Donnelly saluted...and hurriedly made his exit, the door slamming shut behind him even as he started to run.

Michael smiled grimly at the closed door, warm satisfaction filling his chest...and then noticed Gabriella smirking at him...and the look became nothing _but_ grim, making her pale. "Amused by something, Daniels?"

"N-no s-sir..."

"Because Donnelly would appreciate help, I'm sure..."

"N-not necessary, sir!"

"Good." Michael turned, finding Tali looking at him, head cocked to the side...and waved dismissively at the Engineer. "Then go check EDI's systems." There was a flicker of a smile on Gabriella's face, and Michael's wave turned into a closed fist. "_All_ of them."

Gabriella's mouth half-opened, ready to protest...but then she thought better of it and simply saluted. "Yes sir." Then she left, and _fast_.

Michael felt some satisfaction in that...even as nervousness gripped his gut tight. He moved forward, mouth opening.

But it was Tali who spoke first, arms crossed over her chest, voice tinged with amusement. "That was really cruel..." A small chuckle. "I..._appreciate_ that you want to distract me now that we're close to the Flotilla, but that was a bit over the top...and not a little _mean_..."

"Distract you?" Michael echoed, blinking. _Oh_..._right_..._forgot_ _about_ _that_. "Erm, yes, well...that's what I was doing..." Michael rubbed the back of his neck as Tali watched him, not in the least convinced. "...totally."

"Riiight..." Tali shook her head, chuckling. "...you're an idiot."

Nervously chuckling, Michael's hand remained firmly on his neck, rubbing it as he spoke. "Well...yeah...we know that already, don't we?"

A little chuckle escaped Tali at that, but nothing more, the woman taking a slow step backwards.

Silence.

_Dammit_! _Grow some balls_! Michael drew a shuddering breath...and forced himself to leap. "Tali, about what I almost said. I-"

"Oh, _that_!" Tali interrupted, a hand flailing up in a dismissive gesture as she took another step backwards. "Don't worry about it, I...you were just joking around." Another step back, hand still moving, the flailing keeping Michael back. "Not your fault I'm too dull to get that..."

"You're _not_-" Michael bit down, forcing himself not to be distracted as he followed Tali. "Jeez, princess, it wasn't my intention to make you uncomfortable, but...well...I..."

"D-_don't_..." Tali swallowed loud enough for it to be heard, taking another step backwards. ".._apologise_, yes, there's no...no _problem_, okay? I...I really need to do some work, research on the whole trial thing..."

"I...can I help?" Michael asked, a painful vice around his heart._ She doesn't want to talk_...

"_No_!" Tali snapped, a little too fast, then she took a step backwards, hands held before her. "I mean...no...I...as the accused I'll probably be heard, but it's my captain that will defend me...I...you don't even have to come with me..." She looked away, then cocked her head and looked back to him. "...unless you...want to..."

"Of course I want to..." Michael moved forward, catching Tali's right hand in his, forcing her to stop retreating as he held her gaze. "...I want to be there, to help if needed, to be there for you." It _hurt_. _Just say it_...

Tali was looking at him, saying nothing, frozen still. _Say it, dammit_!

"Tali...I-"

"I really need to get this work done..." Tali interrupted, voice a whisper as she pried her hand out of Michael's grip, then took a step towards her console, making Michael realize he had almost driven her into a corner. "...I need to work, to think, to..." She looked away from him, unable to look him in the eye any longer.

_Not ready, she's not ready_... Michael swallowed, disappointed, then blinked, sudden happiness hitting him, surprising him. _But __I__ am_..._and she __will__ be_...

Happiness.

Drawing a deep breath...Michael smiled widely and stepped back. "Okay, I'll leave you to it then." Another deep breath, the warm happiness seeping through his limbs. "And I'll be here, when you need me..."

"I..." Tali's voice changed, pensive, her head turning to shyly look at him, tone low. "...okay..." She looked away, voice nothing but a whisper. "..._okay_..."

"Yes, okay." Michael chuckled softly, retreating, unable to contain his smile. _We've waited for over two years, I can wait a bit longer_... "And don't worry...it'll all work out."

Tali's visor grew darker as she blushed, then she looked away. "Okay..."

And Michael smiled as he left her to her work.

_It __will__ work out_...

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_Thanks to Abydos Jackson._


	51. Chapter 51

It was a bitter-sweet return.

Tali took a deep breath, despite the filters in her mask, she felt as if she could smell it, the scent of the _Rayya_, her birthship.

_My first home_... She turned her head left and right, slowly, carefully looking at the insides of the decontamination chamber, as if afraid she'd shatter the illusion around her if she turned too quickly.

_It has been a long time_..._too_ _long_. She eyed the panel to the left, recognising her own work. When had she changed the wiring beneath and welded it back...ten years ago? _They really ought to have opened and checked it since then_... She shook her head, banishing the thought, she wasn't there to do maintenance, she was there to defend herself...from her own family.

She shuddered, lowering her head, the knowledge like a dark worm in her gut.

Behind her there was the scrape of boots as the two at her back moved closer, ready to support her, despite her not having said anything.

It was..._good_ to have Michael behind her, it was _right_...she honestly couldn't imagine herself daring to go to the trial on her own. For all their awkwardness, for all her fear...she couldn't do without him, not any longer. _Or maybe I never could_...

It hadn't always been like that; before her pilgrimage she had been strong and independent, knowing that she, the 'admiral's favourite' – less truer perceptions were impossible to find – had to rely on herself even as she used that strength for her people.

But _now_...she wasn't as independent. It was curious, the pilgrimage served to remind Quarians about how much they needed one another, how little help they could find outside the Flotilla. Tali had discovered the opposite; she had found people, Michael most of all, willing to give life and limb for her, who didn't simply take her aid without giving any help or affection in return...

He had been more independent before too...like her...and now they were both..._less_.

And Tali couldn't regret it, despite it all...she _couldn't_.

The only other in the chamber was Garrus, and Tali was glad for it, the old gang, together, as they were _supposed_ to be.

The Turian wasn't really needed, but it was good to have some back-up; he was also respected since Tali had spoken well of him on the Flotilla, not to mention that he _wanted_ to come... Legion and two Cerberus operatives were right out to bring onto the Flotilla. Mordin was too curious for his own good, and Samara's Justicar code made her dangerous in a courtroom. Thane's sickness, however harmless, would make some Quarian's nervous. Kasumi's kleptomania wouldn't help them on a trial, and neither Grunt, Jack or Zaeed were what one could call diplomatic. _Which Michael and Garrus __clearly__ are_... Tali rolled her eyes.

Yet despite that...she was glad they both were there, her best friend and her...whatever Michael was.

She would need them.

There was no more time for studies, for thinking and worrying...the decontamination was finished and the door before them opened with a slight screech of a door that hadn't been oiled as of late. Tali didn't have time to even frown at the oversight from the local engineer, for at the other end, in the long hall cramped with boxes, four Quarians with assault rifles stood at the ready.

A moment later Michael was standing between her and them. The last few hours he had been nothing but a ball of tense energy, and now he looked _more_ then ready to let it out as he stood before the four rifles, hands curling into fists at his sides. The four Quarians exchanged looks, gripping their rifles tighter...and a low growl escaped the human._ If they fire_..._he'll tear them apart with his bare hands_... Tali wasn't sure if she was supposed to be annoyed with Michael's lack of tact or blush with the knowledge he was so protective...and did both.

"Stand down." The familiar voice was accompanied by equally familiar footsteps, making Tali's tense shoulders slump in relief.

The Quarians slowly lowered their rifles, the two in the middle stepping aside to let the familiar form of the marine sergeant step forward. Tali smiled, genuinely happy to see the man standing tall and healthy. "Kal!" Tali exclaimed, taking a reflexive step forward.

Coming to a halt, Kal'Reegar put his hands behind his back even as the four marines to his sides fully lowered their weapons. "Tali'Zorah, Shepard and...Vakarian, I believe? Wish we were meeting under better circumstances."

"Reegar." Michael offered a nod. "Good to see you." His voice was curt, but he didn't step aside, keeping himself between Tali and the other Quarians, almost _tenser_ now that Reegar stood there, protective, almost..._possessive_.

_Of me_.

Tali blushed, annoyed with herself as she saw the four other Quarian's exchange curious looks, one of them shifting her stance, amused. _Dammit, I almost forgot all other Quarians read body language so well_... Fortunately Kal'Reegar wasn't one for teasing, or even _reacting_. "You as well, Shepard, it's fortunate that you're here."

"Hmmm." The man replied, hesitantly taking a step to the side, finally letting Tali face Reegar properly, though he remained between them, looking as if he was ready to place himself back at a moment's notice. _Oh please, continue_... Blushing furiously, Tali shifted where she stood, shooting Michael's back a scathing look. "I don't leave my own to face the wolves themselves."

"Good." Reegar swiftly said, silencing one of the other marines with a glance as she moved to speak. "It'll be needed."

"Wait..." Tali looked past Reegar...and saw no one. "Where's the captain of the Neema, Kal...?" _Is he late_? _I need my captain_...

For the first time, Kal'Reegar shifted his stance, uncomfortable. _Oh no_..._something has happened_... "That's why I'm glad Shepard is here, Ma'am. The admiralty board has, considering your recent deployment, given you the name Tali'Zorah vas _Normandy_..."

_W-what_? Tali took a step backwards, her back hitting Garrus' chest as she stared at Reegar in shock.

Instead Michael was the one who spoke, a low oath escaping him before he growled. "Which makes _me_, a _human_, her captain and defender..." _He __did__ study our laws, then_... Kal'Reegar offered a curt nod. "...they want her exiled." Another nod...and Michael's growl turned dangerous. "They'll be disappointed."

Silence.

Then Kal'Reegar nodded. "I believe you." He turned his visor to Tali. "Ma'am, are you okay?"

"I...yes...I'm fine." Tali muttered, stepping away from Garrus, the hand she hadn't felt on her shoulder sliding off. "I just...it has to be something serious, for them to do something like that, isn't it?" The other Quarian said nothing. "Kal?"

"I'm sorry, Ma'am, but I've been told not to tell you more than this until the trial, speaking of which, we should head there soon, they're already assembling now that you're here." Reegar turned, gesturing for them to follow. "It is to be held at the garden plaza."

"I..." Tali hesitated, feeling her back press up against Garrus. She had thought herself prepared, but now that it was _happening_...terror gripped her. Then Michael turned to her, the eyes underneath his visor soft as he reached out, taking a hand she barely felt...and Tali found herself slowly detach from Garrus' chest as she drew a shuddering breath. "...great...many spectators then?" A trembling chuckle. "_Great_..."

Michael's other hand reached out, and softly drew a line down her visor, the move surprisingly making Tali's shoulders slump as she calmed, if only a little. Then he drew her onwards, making her move along as the other four Quarians formed up around them when they moved after Kal'Reegar. Michael's voice, now softer, called after the marine. "You said told, _not_ ordered."

Reegar glanced back at him. "That's right." He turned back, stepping around a crate full of spare parts that had fallen out of the nets on the rusty walls. "But don't ask, trust me, this is for the best."

"How can it be for the _best_?" Michael snorted even as he pulled Tali a little closer, Garrus a shadow in their wake as they moved on. His gaze moved left and right over the cramped corridor. "I swear, if this is some kind of trap..."

"If so, I didn't set it." Reegar replied. "Though it looks bad, I admit...you have a tough fight ahead of you."

Even with her just holding Michael's hand, Tali felt him shake with a growl. "Bring it."

"That spirit might help." Kal'Reegar dryly noted, suddenly turning as they reached a corner, his stance stiff as he gestured to the turn to his left. "It's in here." A pause. "I'll be here and...good luck, Ma'am."

Tali's eyes widened, her body going rigid. _Keelah_..._the garden is right around the corner_..._they'll be waiting there_, _they'll_..._father_..._he'll_..._all_ _the_ _people_..._I_..._I_..._no_...

Michael turned, the fire of anger in his eyes fading as he looked over to her, voice low as he moved closer, heedless of the looks the other Quarians were shooting them. His voice a low whisper. "I won't let them get away with anything, you know that." A growl, his eyes distant. "_Anything_."

"We're here." Garrus echoed the sentiment, hand on Tali's shoulder, the Turian standing tall above the Quarians as he looked ahead, the black visor on his helmet no doubt hiding a curious look. "We got your back, as always."

"I...okay..." Tali took a deep breath, gave Michael's hand a squeeze, her other reaching up to pat Garrus'. "...let's go then..." She forced her legs, heavy as if they were filled with lead, to move, to move up next to Michael as they moved round the corner and towards the Garden plaza. To let him release her hand so she could face them on her own two feet... Her voice was a tiny whimper. "I'm going to hate this..."

Ahead, there was a short corridor leading up to the garden, its plaza right ahead already looking crowded.

The Garden was as Tali remembered it, large and spacious, a luxury on the Flotilla, a place to go to when you didn't want to be in the crowds within the rest of the ship, where knocking into someone only _rarely_ happened... The green grass was neatly mown, the old walls covered in lichen, the odd tree rising up, each one bearing not yet ripened fruit, for even a place of relaxation had to be of _some_ use.

The plaza dominated the large room, being a broken down amphitheatre of light brown stones, worn down by centuries of wear. It was open at the front, making it easy for people to enter it, in particular the performers that usually walked onto the central stage.

Now there were no performers though, instead, a platform built on two steps had been erected in the centre of the stage. Atop the upper step, a woman stood – _Auntie Raan_... – and below her, three others stood facing them, the admirals, ready to cast their votes. As expected, Tali didn't see her father among them, the man having had to recluse himself. Odd, even for _him_, she saw him nowhere else though.

Nowhere...among the _hundreds_ of people on the stands. Not a few dozen, as with any odd performance, but _hundreds_. Their heads turned towards the three, silver eyes looking over at them, many narrowed in hostility.

_Keelah_...

Tali hesitated, but Garrus was right behind her, and the discreet push against the small of her back kept her moving.

"Tali'Zorah vas Normandy..." Auntie Raan's tone was calm and official, but she inclined her head, stance shifting into something akin to regret, gesturing for the small platform a dozen feet away from the judges. "...step forward."

Swallowing, Tali followed the instructions, finding Michael to her left and Garrus to her right as she stepped onto the platform, her heart beating hard and fast.

She easily recognised the admirals. As a young girl, father had dragged her to many of the admiral-meetings. At first she had thought it his way of giving them time to be with one another, but later she had realised he was trying to form her into another admiral, she had felt...hurt. _Where __is__ he_? _Surely he has time for my __trial_... She grimaced. _Or maybe he doesn't want to see me any more, maybe he thinks I failed him_...

She squeezed her eyes shut, drawing a shuddering breath before looking over to the admirals. Admiral Gerrel held a deliberately sympathetic stance, her father's friend cutting the same impressive figure he had always done. Koris was much smaller, but had a proud stance, that of a man with conviction...and looked quite hostile. The last admiral, Tali didn't recognise, though she looked almost uninterested as she gazed back at Tali.

Finally, Shala'Raan broke the silence, her tone still calm. "Tali'Zorah stands before us, accused of treason. Her captain, Commander Shepard, stands with her, the proceedings hereby open." A pause. "Does the defence have any opening statement?"

Tali glanced down, surprised when she found Michael instantly take a step forward, not an ounce of hesitation in his stance, drawing a few surprised glances from the crowd. His voice a snarl. "_First_, I want to know _what_ my crew-member is accused of."

"Treason, obviously." Koris retorted with a snort...and Michael's stance got tenser, making the man hurriedly add. "More specifically, she is accused for having brought Geth parts and technology to the Flotilla; parts that could potentially reactivate and endanger the fleet."

_Oh_... Tali blinked, not having expected that. It _wasn't_ a crime to follow an admiral's order, not even _such_ an order, and she had been so careful...why accuse her _now_!

"Tali?" Looking down she found Michael looking up at her, eyes steady. "Please, speak."

"I did not bring back unsafe material..." Tali shook her head, causing Michael to arch an eyebrow. She looked back up to the admirals. "I acted on an admiral's _order_, I sent back material, _yes_, but all of it, _all_, was harmless and deactivated. I_ triple-checked _every piece I sent back, _nothing_ of it could endanger the fleet."

There was a telling silence from the admirals, Koris looking...smug.

Around them there were whispers, some of them angry, others amused, amused with _her_ words...

_Why_?

"An admiral's order, you say? And what admiral would be foolish enough to do such a thing?" Admiral Koris asked, drawing a sharp look from Gerrel. "And nothing of it could reactivate? Are you sure?"

Tali found a growl escape her chest."_Yes_, I'm _sure_. And what admiral? Who do you think! Just ask my father! Ask Rael'Zorah and he'll tell you _everything_!"

_This is ridiculous_! _I can't believe they dragged me here to_...

Koris leant forward, growling. "That will be difficult, since Geth took the lab-ship your father was working on!"

"Wha..." Tali swayed where she stood, as if struck, head swimming with sudden shock. ":..what are you talking...about...?"

Gerrel growled at Koris, then turned his head to Tali, bowing it slightly. "It appears that Geth have taken over the Alarei and..." _No_. "..._killed_ everyone aboard." _No_...

Her vision swam, whiteness filling it, then darkness.

Then she found Garrus gripping her right arm, Michael her left, holding her up as her vision slowly returned. She was sure Michael was speaking loudly, but to her the words were a distant buzz. "What the hell's wrong with you! Is _this_ the way you tell someone about their father's end! Does she _look_ like she expected that!"

Around her there was a low murmur among the crowd even as Tali forced her legs to hold her up, to release Garrus and Michael's hands. She tried to speak, but nothing but a croak escaped her, making the admirals turn their eyes to her, Gerrel and Raan looking worried. A shake of her head, her hand moving to press against her visor as she held her ground...and Tali managed to gasp forth. "B-but I...the Alarei is _there_...I _saw_ it..."

"Yes, the engines, weapons and sensors are destroyed, it's dead in space." Gerrel replied. "But every team of marines trying to enter has met nothing but dead bodies and a _lot_ of Geth. We will soon turn our guns on it and destroy it utterly, those machines must not be given a chance to multiply until they can threaten the rest of the fleet."

"You can't!" Tali exclaimed, shaking her head as she took a step forward. "There could still be survivors! M-my...there could still be people there!"

"The marines couldn't manage more then five minutes in there!" Gerrel retorted, shaking his head. "No, there are no survivors, I know you want to believe-"

"No!" Tali snapped back, many Quarians might be intimidated by the admirals, but she was _not_ among them! "I've seen people survive things you wouldn't believe! The Geth might not have taken all of the ship! If the sensors are out they can't see anyone hiding! And we _can_ take it back!"

"We are not here to speak about a _ship_." Koris snorted. "But of _your_ judgement, something we find lacking with every moment. We want all the information you have about what you sent to the ship, _everything_."

"Wha...that's on the Alarei! I sent the manifest with the shipment for security reasons! So father would know what everything was!" Tali found her voice breaking, her chest heaving as something threatened to snap within her.

"Security reasons?" Koris echoed, snorting. "Seems to have _backfired_, didn't it? Yet again a proof of _poor_ judgement!"

A low growl escaped Michael, the man taking a step forward. "Says the admiral _incapable_ of taking a single ship back from the Geth, an admiral who apparently has no evidence _against_ Tali. You hear her say the items she sent were safe, yet you see this ship and think it's not, yet you have _no_ proof. This trial is a _farce_, and you admirals are more insensitive then _any_ Geth."

There was an angry murmur among the crowd, as much for, as against Michael's accusation, an accusation having made the admirals stiffen in anger.

Gerrel raised a hand, beckoning silence. "This is an accusation of _treason_, Shepard, we take the safe route there. If even _suspected_ of treason, a person is a possible danger to the entire _fleet_. We cannot take the risk of letting such a person go free among us without us being satisfied of her innocence."

Silence.

Then Michael took a step forward, angry. "So you're saying that unless she shows she _hasn't_ done this..." He let the words hang, tone exasperated. "...you'll sentence her as _guilty_?"

"That is, unfortunately..." Koris snorted at Gerrel's choice of words. "...correct."

Michael turned with a sigh, voice a whisper. "Innocent until proven guilty, my ass..." Then he paused, looking up at her, the anger fading in his eyes at whatever he saw.

Silence.

Then he turned, growling. "Fine, we don't have any evidence, because it's all on that ship. So you know what? I'm going to do what your marines apparently couldn't. I'm going to go over there, with the _only_ Quarian here that has earned my respect and this Turian here, and I'm going to kill those Geth, get that evidence and then come back to shove my foot up your ass."

Chaos.

People shouting, a few laughing, others crying out, outraged by his words.

"Good luck, idiot!"

"What did he say about Quarians!"

"Ha! Kick them in the ass!"

"Humans are more arrogant than Asari!"

Gerrel thumped a fist into his thigh. "That's quite enough! Order!"

The female admiral was leaning forward, looking deeply interested, but said nothing.

Koris, on the other hand, was shaking his head. "You think you can succeed where we failed? That ship is _full_ of Geth!"

The crowd simmered down, if only a little. Michael ignored them, his eyes on the admirals. "I think you _know_ I've taken out _thousands_ of Geth, admiral. I'm _tempted_ to just leave and take Tali with me to some people that _appreciate_ her...but she deserves more then that. And what do _you_ care? Apparently you're willing to throw her out on a _hunch_..." There was an angry stirring in the crowd at that, for all their suspicion of her...many of the Quarians sitting down there had been personally helped by Tali with something while she had worked alongside them, for all their suspicions...they looked up to her. "...so why not take the risk and see if we can return your ship, _and_ your desired evidence, to you?"

Silence.

"If you did, we would be in your debt." Gerrel finally said.

"In _his_ debt, it does _not_ affect Tali's trial." Koris groused, then looked back to Michael. "And we will want _irrefutable_ evidence, Shepard, remember that."

"Oh I'll find _something_ you can't refute..." The man growled low, then raised his voice. "Good, then we're in agreement, we'll head there immediately." He turned, hand reaching up...and Tali, before she knew what she was doing, took it, letting herself be helped down off her platform. Now forced to look up at him, she found a flicker of hesitation in his eyes, then steel, his voice low. "We'll find him..." _Find_...

And Tali found herself stiffening, drawing a deep breath as she growled back. "Yes, we _will_."

_Alive_...

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_Thanks to Abydos Jackson for being there when needed._


	52. Chapter 52

"This way."

Tali could feel his eyes on her, but refused to acknowledge it.

She knew three things. One; that Michael's decision to enter the ship via the offline engines had probably been the only reason the many Geth defenders hadn't instantly attacked them, when facing Geth it was all about doing the unexpected. Second; She knew that every single Geth was going to die. Third; She knew she was going to save her father.

She knew the Alarei, she had worked on it, and now that knowledge came well in hand. But there was little time, and therefore she was taking the lead, guiding the others through a maintenance tunnel, fast and decisively.

Fast, so that the many Geth wouldn't catch and pin them down.

Decisively, so she wouldn't have to look at the gory corpses of the crew.

Stepping over a Quarian woman with her visor shattered, the face beneath nothing but a mess of blood, Tali ejected a spent shell from her shotgun with a growl as she continued, moving over the still twitching Geth sentry with its now missing head.

"Tali-"

"We have to keep going." She let the shotgun pan left and right as she moved forward. The maintenance tunnel was wide, designed to ease transport of replacement parts and to work on the ancient wiring hidden within the walls on each side.

It was also dark, the lights flickering on and off as the Geth drew onto the power reserves to create and power more of their sick kind. As such, Tali kept her eyes peeled and weapon ready, if any Geth showed themselves she would blast them before they could attack, in fact, she _welcomed_ them trying.

"Tali-"

"Not now, keep moving." Tali snapped, then hesitated. "I...I know he's here, somewhere, sure, he's no an engineer, but he knows this ship and..." She shook her head, clearing it of doubt with a spike of anger. "...he's here, _somewhere_...so quit being so slow!"

"Tali!" His hand was on her arm...and she spun round to face Michael, blinking angry tears away as she glared at him.

"_What_! What is it! Don't you see? If we keep waiting he could d-!" She swallowed. "...he could-"

His finger appeared on her visor, silencing her as Michael looked into her eyes, voice soft. "Shut up...and _listen_..."

Forcing herself to bite down in silence, Tali waited for whatever irrelevant thing the man was about to say...only for him to not say a thing.

Her eyes narrowed, body tensing, anger filling her...

And then she heard it, a sniffle...

Swiftly turning her head towards the sound, Tali's eyes widened, her hearing straining to catch the sound.

Only to hear it again, a sniffle, followed by a whisper, something that might be a prayer...and then a terrified shriek.

"Where-"

Garrus never had time to finish the question, for Tali was already running, remembering how echoes travelled from one end of the room to the other. Jumping over another dead Quarian, Tali rounded a corner, shotgun already lowered at the door ahead, the two men at her back scurrying after her.

The doors to the maintenance tunnels on the Alarei consisted of thin steel plates lying horizontally across the doorway, sparse enough so you could see through them...

Enough space that you could see into the room ahead.

Tali only got a brief glimpse; Two Quarians cowering in the right corner, hands covering their faces in a vain attempt to block the shots about to be fired by the three Geth moving in from the left, their cold eyes aglow with hatred.

Then her shotgun jerked in her hands.

The plates of the door couldn't resist the blast, they were blown outwards, their broken pieces showering the Geth, making them stumble sideways, confused. The second blast took the closest one in the chest, sending its gutted machinery into the others and making them both thump into the wall opposite her.

The one to the right bounced off the wall, stumbling as it turned its rifle at Tali...

The one on the left dropped onto one knee, head and rifle rising towards her...

Tali's foot came down, smashing the kneeling Geth's head into the wall, crushing its eye. Her shotgun fired and tore the other Geth's midsection apart, making the legs drop to one end and the torso another.

Silence.

"K-keelah..." Turning her head, Tali saw the two Quarians looking up at her, glowing eyes wide. It was the man who had spoken, his surprisingly wide shoulders shaking. "...I...you just..."

"W-wait...I recognise y-you..." The woman said, slowly detaching herself from the chest of the other Quarian. "Ta-Tali'Zorah? I...why are you..._how_!"

Tali cocked her head to the side, frowning as she scoured her memory. "I...Cann'Leen? You're the pilot, I believe..."

"Yes." The woman bobbed her head eagerly, slowly getting up, gaze drifting to the downed Geth, as if expecting them to leap up at any moment. "We had to run though, the first thing the Geth did was to take over the bridge so we couldn't shut them down..."

"I don't care about-"

"You can shut them down on the bridge?" Michael interrupted, the man stepping through the shattered door, shooting Tali a reproachful look for her running ahead.

Her reply was a defiant toss of her head.

"You're a...human, right?" Leen asked, drawing Michael's glare away from Tali. "What is a human doi...and a _Turian_! I..._wait_...Michael and...G...Garrus?"

The human and Turian glanced at one another in surprise, Garrus' voice hesitant. "How...did you know?"

"The news..." The male Quarian managed, shaking his head as he slowly joined the woman in getting to his feet. "...and Tali's tales...you killed so many Geth..." The man shot the broken machinery a glance. "...you're...famous, I guess, almost as much as Tali here..."

"It's not important!" Tali snapped, shaking her head in exasperation. "My father, the admiral, where is he?"

"I..." The two Quarians hesitated, Leen shooting the man a worried look...and he did nothing but shrug. "...w-we don't know...I...I think he's..."

_No_.

Tali was suddenly close to them, leaning forward as she narrowed her eyes, voice a low hiss. "Where. Is. He?"

"H-he was going to the bridge..." The man said, shaking his head. "He was going to try and shut them down...that's where the fail-safe is, he...was going to save us..." He looked away. "B-but that was two days ago, we've been hiding since then...I don't think-"

"So he's hiding there too." Tali realised, nodding fervently. "Yes, that sounds like him, he has a goal, and he intends to finish it." She looked back at the others, ignoring the way Michael and Garrus glanced at one another. "So if we hit them hard he can get the chance to reach the fail-safe, or we can join forces...o-or we activate it ourselves so he won't have to risk himself even more..."

Another infuriating glance between the human and the Turian...and Michael looked back to her and offered a short nod. "We'll try..." There was something else he wanted to say, but it didn't come.

"Yes, we'll do it." Tali nodded, straightening as she slammed a new heat sink into her shotgun. "I know a short-cut, let's go." She looked back to the two other Quarians. "You two, grab a gun each and go into the maintenance tunnel behind me, the Geth have pulled back, so it should be safe for you until we've cleaned this up."

"I...we will..." Cann'Leen muttered, nodding as she and the man slowly inched towards the downed Geth. "Thank you...Tali'Zorah...I...thank you, w-we didn't think anyone would...thank you."

"We don't leave anyone behind." Tali grimly retorted, nodding to Garrus and Michael to follow. "_Anyone_."

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The Geth turned, assault rifle spewing shots into its comrades as its hacked interface told it they were hostiles.

Two of them, caught off guard, stumbled and fell, only for a third to down the hacked Geth with a blast of its shotgun...and Tali used the opportunity to run up close, her shot tearing the head off the distracted foe and sending its broken machinery crashing into the stairs it was guarding.

Above, the door to the bridge opened...and more Geth spewed forth, weapons pouring shots towards Tali. At the foot of the stairs, with no cover available, she snarled at them, glaring up even as she dodged sideways, her shotgun firing from too far away to penetrate their shields.

Then Garrus and Michael caught up. Michael's Revenant rifle poured shots into the doorway, high calibre bullets tearing through shields and armour with equal ease. Garrus' Vindicator slamming bursts of three into those avoiding the worst of the devastating fire, sending them tumbling.

"Tali!"

She didn't listen, she ran upwards, the covering fire of the men behind her flying around her, thumping into faltering machines vainly trying to pull back.

She jumped, fired...and a Geth broke apart as she cleared the broken line of its fallen comrades.

_Pain_!

Rolling to the left, Tali felt her right arm burn as her shield faltered, the Geth that had hidden behind the destroyed ones moving up while ejecting the heat sink from its shotgun.

She growled, leapt...and her shotgun clicked, its ammunition spent. There was no stopping her momentum though, and she swung the weapon like a club, knocking her foe's shotgun sideways before crashing shoulder first into the Geth.

It swayed with the impact...and then stumbled on the arm of a fallen companion. They fell, Tali on top...who smashed the butt of her shotgun into her foe's neck the moment they hit the ground.

_Die_!

The machine bucked, trying to toss her off...and Tali smashed the shotgun into it again, knocking its head sideways.

_Die_!

She sniffled, the Geth struggled, trying to bring its gun to bear...and she smashed her weapon into its eye, shattering it. Instantly it dropped its shotgun, the arms of the Geth twitching and jerking, its whole body arching as it stuttered its mechanical filth.

_Die_!

Another sniffle escaped her...and she smashed its head with her shotgun again.

And again.

And again.

And _again_...

And then...she stopped, chest heaving, body shaking, _spent_. "Keelah..." She blinked, feeling as if she was waking up out of a daze.

She had been in such a hurry, had such a need...the Geth opposing them had only spurred her on, making her more and more reckless, _crazed_, even...

To her right, she heard Michael and Garrus move up the stairs, and she didn't have to look at them to know the human was glowering at her, his voice was a growl even as Tali looked away and over the bridge. "Tali, I swear, I'm _this_ close to-"

"Father!"

She ran forth, unable to stop her legs from drawing her close to the horrifying sight she didn't _want_ to approach, to see what she didn't _want_ to see.

She fell, knees painfully hitting the grated steel floor, hands landing on the man lying on his side, unmoving, just a few feet from the bridge computers.

_Just a few feet_...

She swallowed, staring, hands gripping onto the arm not pinned under his chest, tentatively lifting it. _Please, hold me, I always wanted you to_..._hold_...

She let go...and the arm dropped back to the floor, lifeless.

"N-no..." She pushed his shoulder, gently first, then gripping it, _shaking_ it. "G-get up...I...we never...your promised we'd have time to..." She blinked furiously, forcing the tears away as she punched him in the chest. "...you _promised_!"

There was distant sound behind her, but she couldn't focus on it.

"Wh-why didn't you...why could we never...?" There were too many questions, too many questions she had never dared to ask, and now there were no answers to be found from the lifeless husk before her. "I s-should have...I only w-wanted..."

Then hands were around her waist, a body against her back. Michael's voice, soft. "Hush, hush...it's not your fault..."

"I know that!" Tali snapped, the anger liberating, but quickly fading. "I only wanted..." She shook the body again, _wanting_ the anger. "You were never _there_! And _now_...get up!" She shook, grief gripping her heart, turning her angry tone into a whimper. "Get up..."

"He tried to make things right..."

"I didn't _want_ a hero! I wanted a _father_!" Tali's hands slid from the limp body before her as her own shuddered, voice a whisper. "Someone who took his sick-leave to see his family without a mask...someone who saw you about other things than work...someone who didn't just _c-claim_ to c-care...b-b-but a-actually _d-did_..." She nearly doubled over, a sob tearing through her throat.

Silence.

Then the body behind her shifted. "Garrus...the fail-safe..." The arms wound tighter around her. "Tali...I don't know what to...I'm so sorry..."

She tensed...and then slumped in the arms holding her, nodding. "I'm sorry too..." _For all that wasn't, for all that will never be_... She stared at the visor of the dead man and felt only regret. "...I...could I get a moment alone?"

"I...okay." The arms around her held her tighter for a moment, then reluctantly let go, the pressure against her back remained for a moment longer, then he stepped back, steps slow and soft. "Garrus, show me what you have..."

Tali, knowing Michael had things in hand, forced herself to stare at the dead man before her. _I never knew you_..._father_.

She reached out.

_I shouldn't, there's nothing to see_...

She found his visor, fingers moving to the latches.

_It won't help_...

With a hiss, the visor came off.

Tali recoiled, fear gripping her gut at the sight of the large eyes staring back at her.

She stared back, back at the face she had never seen before, the face of her father...

He didn't have her green eyes, those she had gotten from her mother, his were pale grey, almost white. But the quills, short, even for a male Quarian, were dark crimson like her own. Nose...small as hers. Skin...slightly darker, a skin lined with lines of age and worries. His mouth was open, forked and black tongue limply hanging out from between pointed teeth.

Was she supposed to put his tongue back in? Close his mouth? His eyes? Clean him up and bury him?

She felt no obligation to do any of that...and she knew it shouldn't be so. She found her head dipping as she took a shuddering breath, her hands finding one of his, holding it gently.

_I'm_ _sorry_... She let go of his hand. _Goodbye_..._stranger_.

A sniffle...and she rose to her feet, body feeling sluggish as she stepped over the corpse and towards the two men looking tense as they stared at something at the screen before them.

Tali swallowed and moved closer, trying to force the lump in her throat away. "What are you looking at...? Something that-"

Her words died in her throat as the two men stepped to the side, revealing the video playing on the screen.

Her father was arguing with another Quarian. Even as Tali watched, the other Quarian on the video shook her head. "Sir, I'm sure we could continue working with what we have, using simulations to represent more Geth programs."

"No, we need it to be a _real_ network if the hacking experiments are to be reliable." Real'Zorah shook his head. "I'm not about to sit and wait, we are _going_ to get our homeworld back, for our childrens' sake."

Tali winced, pain jabbing her heart at the words. _You __wanted__ to do right, I know, but_... The scientist on the video, oblivious to Tali's pain, hammered it home. "But sir, the network is getting too advanced to handle, our computers are slowing down as they don't have enough processing power to..."

"Then shut down all extra fail-safes, they're bleeding the systems too much." Her father snapped, tearing Tali's heart in two with horror. _No_..._please_ _don't_ _tell_ _me_ _you_... "I promised my daughter to build her a house on the homeworld, I will honour that. " _No_..._not_ _me_..._don't_ _say_ _that_..._don't_...

Then the screen flickered, blackened...and Garrus withdrew his finger from the controls, tone low as he shot her a hesitant look. "Well...that's what we needed."

_No_..._no_... Tali shook her head furiously, taking a step back. "We...we can't..."

_They'll_..._father will be_..._he's just committed the same crime they did so long ago_..._he_..._they will strike his name_..._he'll be a pariah_... She shook her head, it _hurt_.

"We can't tell them..." _And the __people_..._when this comes out_..._when they know how far some were willing to go_...

"Tali." She looked up, finding Michael towering over, her looking down at her, eyes intense. "You _need_ this evidence."

"I know that!" She pulled back, hissing, embracing the anger. "But if they see this...my father will be stricken from the record of every ship he ever served on! H-he...he'll be a _monster_...there's no other Quarian that has _ever_ done this! I...he did so much _good_ before this!" She shook her head, remembering the pride she had felt for him, even though she had never known him. To have even _that_ ruined... "I can't let that be ruined!"

"Tali-" Michael took a step closer, intent on convincing her.

"No!" She took a step back, hands held out before her, holding him back. "We won't do this! He's...no!"

Michael's hands came up, pushing hers to the side, then he gripped her shoulders as he moved closer, eyes flashing. "Rael'Zorah is _dead_!" He shook her. "Hear me? _Dead_!" It _hurt_...Tali looked away. "Without this you'll be _exiled_! And you _live_ for your people!"

"Y-yes..." She looked up, hesitantly...then she swallowed, and forced herself to look back more firmly. "...which is _why_ we can't tell them." She shook her head at Michael's confused look. "Don't you understand? The admiralty board are not the _only_ ones divided on how to deal with the Geth and the homeworld...i-if this comes out...there'll be chaos...the division will be there for all to see...people will...it'll tear us _apart_." Michael's grip on her shoulders softened even as Tali shook. "I can't do that for them...i-if I reveal this...I've destroyed them...it...it's better to be exiled..."

She couldn't believe the words were coming out of her mouth, yet she _meant_ it, meant every horrifying word.

_Exiled_..._alone_..._unwanted_...

Horror squeezed her gut tight, but she refused to look away from Michael's eyes, to show her hesitation and fear.

Silence.

Then Michael's shoulders slumped as he sighed, shaking his head while he glowered down at her. "You stupid little..." He shook her, snarling, _angry_. "...can't you be selfish for _once_ in your life!" Another shake, almost pleading. "Just..._once_!" Another shake, softer. "Please...?"

And Tali couldn't make the pain in his eyes go away, she could only shake her head. "N-no...I can't..."

Michael pulled back, releasing her, as if burnt, growling. "No, you've put too much into your people, _everything_ you do you do for them! I can't..." He looked away, hands closing into fists. "...I can't take that away from you, dammit!"

"M-michael?" Tali starred in horror, then moved forward, shaking her head even as she gripped his arm. "No! Please don't!You can't tell them! You _can't_!"

Michael yanked his arm away, stepping towards the silent Garrus with a growl. "I'm your _captain_! It's _my_ call! I..._no_! I can't do this to you! I can't let all that you are be torn away from you like this! Let the _people_ take the hit, for _once_! You...you've been through enough, princess..."

Silence.

The two staring at one another.

And then Tali sunk to her knees, making Michael blink. "What are you..." She clasped her hands together in front of her. "...no...don't do that...please..."

"_Please_,don't do this..." Tali pleaded back, sniffling as her body shook with too many emotions. "...the people...if this caused them to...I would never be able to look myself in a mirror again, I'd rather di-" She glanced back at her father, swallowing. "T-the people c-can't take this...I...I _can_..."

_I hope_...

Silence.

Then Michael shook his head, moving towards the console and with swift fingers extracted the video to his omni-tool. "No."

"Please!" Tali crawled closer, tears streaming down her face. "Don't do this! _PLEASE_!"

Michael stopped, shoulders slumping as he sighed, a sliver of wetness in his eyes as he looked down at her. "God dammit..." He looked away. "Tali, you're really putting me in a...dammit...I...can't...I'll make up my mind later, okay?"

_He's lying, he's only trying to stop you arguing so he can do what he thinks right_... "O-okay..." Tali nodded, ignoring the doubts raking her, knowing she couldn't do more anyway. "...but please...remember...I can take it...b-but to see my people tearing themselves apart..." She let the rest go unsaid, unable to even think on it.

Michael looked away, then leant down, helping her to her feet. "I...dammit." He held her gaze, eyes set, though his body spoke of hesitation. "I can only promise to think about it..."

Tali held onto his breastplate. "P-please..."

He pulled away, turning away. "I'll..._try_..."

_Keelah, no_...

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_Thanks to Abydos Jackson for not hurting me._


	53. Chapter 53

_Please_ _don't_...

Tali had been unable to speak ever since they left the Alarei, emotions sealing her throat shut, drying her mouth, forcing all air from her lungs...

But what _could_ she say? She had said everything that could be said, further arguing would only make Michael all the more inclined to look at the arguments _against_ her pleas.

Instead she had sat there, in the shuttle going back, opposite him, pressing close to the mercifully quiet Garrus. She hadn't been able to keep her eyes off him though, staring at him, silently begging him to make the right call.

He hadn't looked up _once_, he had stared at the floor, frowning, thinking. So torn...she _knew_ he wanted to do what was right for her, but he wasn't sure _what_ was.

Even now, walking up to the garden plaza once more, everything in his stance, his walk, _screamed_ indecisiveness...of a struggle within him. Tali found herself whimpering at the sight, following in his shadow, feeling frail and painfully vulnerable. Garrus was there, right next to her, arm over her shoulder...yet she barely felt it, her eyes fixed on Michael, wanting nothing more but to plead one last time to him.

Yet now it was too late. The Quarian marines flanking them as they approached the amphitheatre were readily within earshot, the many Quarians ahead were _staring_ at them...

Tali felt cold sweat run down her spine.

_If they hear of what father did_... She didn't dare think of it. Admirals, captains, crew members...all arguing about what was the right thing to do, all that bottled up anger and fear about their lost homeworld exploding. Some driving for more experiments, some for fleeing, some for negotiating, some for direct war with the Geth...

It wouldn't be civil war, everyone would know that would be the end of their race, but the unity, that frail thing driven by a need of survival and a hostile galaxy, the only thing that had kept them going, kept them _together_...that would be _shattered_.

There would be chaos.

_My people_..._torn_ _apart_.

Fear squeezed her heart tight, ice-cold claws digging into her as she stared at Michael, wondering if he truly understood the stakes.

_Please_..._I'll gladly take it, the exile would be nothing compared to seeing such a thing_...

Ahead, the amphitheatre loomed closer, like a great multi-eyed beast glaring down at her...

Tali felt tiny.

Far too soon they came to a halt, making Tali's throat seal shut in panic as with wide eyes she stared at the hundreds of people around her, all waiting, all ready to hear what Michael had to say.

_Who will want to fight_?_ Who will want to leave_? _Families broken, friendships destroyed, a __people divided_... She swallowed, grief gripping her. _My people_... Then panic, her eyes moving over to Michael even as she was moved to stand atop the hated platform once more, for all to see and judge her._ Please don't tell them_...!

Silence, Michael putting his hands behind his back, ignoring her. _Please_!

"We are impressed, Shepard." Gerrel noted, nodded in satisfaction. "Ten survivors recovered so far, the Geth destroyed or deactivated, the Alarei back in our hands...we didn't think you'd be so efficient."

Michael's back straightened ever so slightly, not in pride, but in defiance, his voice a growl. "That's what happens when you work with the _best_."

Gerrel nodded at the implication, the crowd around them whispered to one another...and Koris shook his head, unimpressed. "Your agenda is transparent, Shepard, but as we said, taking the ship back proves nothing. We are _not_ questioning Tali's ability, but her _judgement_. As such we ask you to lay up proof of her innocence, or this will prove a very _short_ trial."

Silence.

Looking down, Tali found Michael hesitating, head dipping, then turning, looking up at her...

She couldn't move, only shake where she stood, her lips managing the slightest of trembled whispers. "_P-please_..."

Silence.

A look of regret in his eyes.

_Keelah_..._no_!

She couldn't move, she could only stare...

Stare as he looked away, stare as he took a step forward, stare as his hands came to hang to his sides, hands curling into fists as he shook with a mixture of anger and desperation.

"Judgement, you say?" His voice was low, making several in the crowd lean forward to hear. "This coming from admirals willing to let the survivors now with you die?" _Huh_? _What is he_..._doing_? "Who wanted to sacrifice a ship when your people are already crowded? Who wanted to sacrifice a part of your _home_?"

There was muttering in the crowd around them, and Gerrel shot them an irritated glance, silencing them before he sighed. "Captain Shepard, we are well aware of this, but I'm afraid Koris' question _stands_, we require the evidence or Tali'Zorah will not-"

"You want _evidence_!" Michael raised his voice, making Gerrel's mouth snap shut as the indecisiveness in Michael's stance was purged away, replaced by anger as the man took another step forward, jabbing an accusing finger at the admiral. "You, who have not a _bit_ of evidence _against_ Tali! You, whose judgement would have left ten or more of your people to _die_! Who judges that Tali, the most decorated Quarian in the _history_ of your people, is to be expendable!"

The female admiral, Xen, shook her head, sounding bored. "This is ridiculous, if this is all-"

"Tali always spoke to me about how close the Quarian people lived..." Michael interrupted, heedless of the admirals as he built up steam. Shaking his head he lowered his hand. "...not the cramped conditions, not the suits, no, that they lived as _one_, as a _family_!" He looked around himself, at the people staring at him in shock...and snorted. "Some family...ready to cast off your most loved of children, and for what? _Fear_!"

Koris raised a hand. "Objection! That is quite enough from Shepard!"

"I haven't even started!" The man snapped back, shaking a fist at the admiral. "You're so afraid of the Geth you want an outlet for what has occurred here? _Fine_. But don't you _dare_ drag _my_ crew member into this!" Around them, people shifted, uneasy, muttering...and Michael looked up at them, glaring. "That's right! _My_ crew member! Tali Vas _Normandy_! Or have you already forgotten how quickly you were willing to throw her out!"

Again, people shifted, looking at one another, irritated, but with _what_, Tali wasn't sure...

Michael turned to the right, walking past Tali, seemingly not noticing her stare. "You say you're questioning her judgement, but where were _you_ when the Geth started to attack planets in the Terminus systems! Where were _you_ when they mobilized to fight all organics! Did you shoulder the responsibility their creators should! _No_!" He turned, pacing past Tali a second time even as people cried out in outrage. "Who _did_ act!" He spun, pointing a finger at Tali, a finger shaking with rage. "_Tali_ did!"

Even in her stunned state, Tali felt movement behind her as Quarian marines came to fill the open area behind her. _Are they going to arrest him or_...? Michael didn't seem to notice as he continued his pacing, his body shaking with anger and..._honesty_...a complete and utter belief in his words, fuelled by desperate defiance... Tali's gaze moved from him to the crowd staring at him...all seeing the same thing...

_This could turn ugly_...

"_Her_ judgement is the _only_ reason Saren was exposed, her judgement is the only reason the Citadel still stands, her _judgement_ is the _only_ reason we still _exist_!" Michael shouted the words, words that echoed over the amphitheatre. Michael didn't stop his pacing for a moment. "And you _doubt_ it! You _all_ know how the galaxy is for Quarian's out on pilgrimage! You _all_ know how it is to be despised and used by people holding themselves above you!"

Again, there was a mutter among the crowd, they knew all too well...and this time they refused to heed Gerrel's glare.

"Yet Tali is viewed a _hero_ among them! She started with nothing more then you all did! And she changed the _galaxy's_ view of Quarians!" _Oh my_... Tali surprised herself as she realised she was still not shocked enough not to blush crimson. "And she earned every bit of it! Do you hear! She made every galactic society doubt _their_ judgement of Quarians...and you want to _exile_ her! What will that tell them of _your_ judgement!"

In the crowd, someone stood up.

_No_..._not_ _possible_. Turning her head, Tali stared, realising it was Veetor, the Quarian man so afraid in crowds...standing up in her support. He was looking at something behind her...and turning her head she realised that the marines at her back were led by Kal'Reegar...all standing, weapons holstered, hands behind their backs, as silent as they were imposing in their support. _Can't_ _be_...

Michael didn't seem to notice. "I _know_ Tali! So does _everyone_ here! Does _anyone_ believe her to have poor judgement! I _dare_ you to speak!" He didn't cease his pacing, in fact, he didn't seem _able_ to, his body shaking with angry energy that needed expending. "Who was it that repaired half the wiring on the Neema! Who was the one who worked on the Rayya even when she wasn't asked to do so! Who took _every_ extra shift! Who is the one that wrote _half_ the maintenance manuals for the Flotilla! Does that sound like someone _lacking_ in judgement!"

Here and there on the amphitheatre...people rose, silent in their support.

_Now_ Michael noticed it...but it only made him shout all the louder, thinking them outraged and silently protesting, rather then supporting. "She has done more for everyone in this damn Flotilla than _any_ of you admirals! And you dare judge _her_! She who has given every _moment_ of free time for you! For _years_! Who fought Geth and Reapers for _you_! Who is willing to give her _life_ for _any_ of you! And not out of a flight of fancy! But a real _belief_ that you're _all_ worth it!"

More people rose...and the admirals heads turned left and right to stare, worried.

_I can't believe it_...

Tali stared at it all, the furious Michael, the worried admirals, the growing number of people standing up...

She felt...breathless, overwhelmed...

"Me? I'm not so sure!" Michael shook his head, still pacing, growling, shouting, angry, honest..._breathtaking_. "For she does _everything_ for you! Yet you're all so eager to throw her out now! Fearing a _reprimand_ when she risks _life_ and _limb_ for you! Not _one_ of you standing up for her! Not _one_ daring to stand up to these assholes!" Koris moved to protest, but went quiet as Gerrel put a hand on his and shook his head. "And Tali who told me you were a family! I _spit_ on this kind of family! A family without trust! Without loyalty! Without _any_ appreciation for the one you should try to _emulate_!"

_Keelah_...

Everywhere, people rising, silent, glaring, condemning...

_So many_...

Michael's pacing slowed down, the man lowering his head, shaking it, then looking back up as he came to a stop."You know what? Why not?" A pause, then a snarl as he stepped forth, jabbing a finger at the admirals. "Why _not_! Exile her! Show the galaxy what narrow-minded little fools you are! Give her up! Make her Vas Normandy not only in name but in _reality_! I'll _gladly_ take the _finest_ of your race and leave you to stew in your own short-sightedness! I'll _gladly_ leave this place that is _nothing_ like she idealized and take the _only_ Quarian that has earned my and the galaxy's respect!"

He meant that too, every _word_, it was etched in his very _being_.

_Keelah_...

And everywhere...people were standing.

_I didn't think_..._they_ _cared_... She blinked, touched to tears, looking at them all, surprised. She had always been idealized by them, idealized...but separate from them. To see them all stand up like that...for _her_...it was beyond her wildest imagination.

Silence.

Michael looking at the standing people around them, slowly lowering his arm, snorting, finished.

And before him...the three admirals exchanging worried glances, then glancing over at the silent and glaring crowd around them, worry digging into their proud stances as they realised what each member of the crowd would say after the trail was over, how fast the news would spread...

Admiral Xen shrugged...and her omni-tool glowed as she swiftly cast her vote.

Admiral Gerrel chuckled, nodded...and cast his vote.

Admiral Koris hesitated...but then looked up at the crowd, at their stares, at the growing impatience, the growing _hostility_...and he cast his vote.

And Shalan'Raan, Tali's Aunt in all but blood, raised her own omni-tool before her...and her stance shifted, making Tali's eyes widened. _You can't be serious_...! Her voice was calm, just a hint of emotion in it. "Tali'Zorah, in light of your previous service to the Quarian people, you are _cleared_ of all charges, these proceedings are now closed, Keelah se'lai."

Tali stared, unable to believe it, behind her she heard the Quarian marines stomp their feet in approval, a stomping swiftly echoed by the crowd around them...yet she couldn't believe it.

Neither could Michael, the man's head cocking to the side. "Wait...what?" He looked at the crowd around them, as if seeing them for the first time. "Oh..." His shoulders slumped in exhaustion and relief. "Oh..."

A laugh escaped Garrus at Tali's side, the Turian reaching up to grab her hand, holding it tight, pulling her off the platform, hugging her firmly.

She barely felt it, she barely _understood_ it, she just stared at the people around them, all stomping their feet, some raising their fists in the air, eyes glowing with what had to be great grins.

_It's_..._it's_ _not_ _possible_...

She turned her head in Garrus' vice of a hug, looking at Michael as she slowly saw him turn to face her, the man looking as surprised as she felt, but relieved, so _incredibly_ relieved.

She blinked, tears filling her eyes. _Thank_ _you_...

8

8

8

It took a long time to leave the amphitheatre.

_Everyone_, even the _admirals_, even _Koris_, wanted to congratulate her, she had shaken so many hands, hugged so many people...all the while stunned to silence, shocked by what had transpired.

And now, an hour later, she found herself facing Michael again, still in the garden, but outside the amphitheatre, finding him pacing back and forth once more.

He looked..._tense_.

She couldn't care less, she ran towards him, joy filling her, her silence banished, as if it had never been there. "Michael! I can't believe wh-what you said! What you _did_! No one has ever spoken like that for me-"

His hands on her shoulders, grip painful, holding her fast as he glared down at her.

She nearly whimpered, breath caught in her throat, fear gripping her.

"Don't you..." He looked away for a moment, voice shaking, _tense_. Then back to her, eyes flashing, tears in their corners. "..._ever_ put me in that position again! I nearly got you...I couldn't...but you wouldn't..." A deep breath, shaking. "If you _ever_ do that again I...I swear..." An exasperated shake of his head. "...I won't forgive you! You hear me!"

"I...hear you..." Tali replied, the fear replaced by...warmth. She smiled, unable to stop herself, relaxing in the painful grip. She knew people were looking, some even staring...but she didn't care. "I'm sorry..." She reached up, placing a hand against the side of Michael's helmet. "...I didn't mean to hurt you..."

_Ever_...

"I..." Michael closed his eyes, turning his head towards her hand, as if trying to feel its touch. "...dammit..." A shuddering laugh. "...I'm such a pushover..."

A giggle escaped Tali. "Yes...a little." She pushed at his head, forcing him to look back to her even as the grip on her shoulders loosened, forcing him to look at her. "I _am_ sorry...for a _lot_ of things...but...never for meeting you...even during my _worst_ moments..._never_ for meeting you..." She chuckled, finding herself looking away as she blushed. "Oh dear...you managed to say all that for me and I can't even manage _this_ with a straight face..."

"I meant it." She felt his hand on hers, pressing it against his helmet, his other entwining in her free hand, five fingers linking with three. "Every word."

She blushed even more, but turned her head back to face him, smiling. "I know..." A chuckle. "...I saw it...as did _everyone_." Michael arched his eyebrow. "Why did you think they rose to support your words? They saw you meant it all...and realised it was the truth."

"Truth, eh?" Michael chuckled, blinking away the near-tears as he smiled. "Well aren't you modest?"

"I don't recall claiming such!" Tali retorted with a laugh, releasing Michael's visor and hand to playfully give his chest a slap. "I _am_ the finest of my race, after all..." Blushing hard, she still managed a wink.

Michael drew closer, head dipping, the top of his helmet coming to touch hers even as he closed his eyes, making her do the same. "Don't I know it..."

Silence.

Comfortable, warm, silence...making her feel as if it was only the two of them there, just...being.

Then Michael sighed, reluctantly pulling away, making her open her eyes and watch him as he turned his head left and right. "Okay, good...I guess now all we have to do is get your name changed back." _Oh_... "Who do you talk about that? The admiralty board? Or the Conclave perhaps? I don't really want to step on any _more_ toes...maybe it's enough to just talk to Gerrel, he seems sympathetic enough-"

"No." Michael blinked, looking back down at her, making her realise she had spoken...and that she too had meant what she'd said. "I...no...we don't need to do that...or...I don't _want_ to do that..."

Michael stared at her, shocked. "B-but that's part of what a Quarian is...a-are you _sure_? I mean I won't be offended or any-"

Tali's finger on his visor silenced him, a finger sliding down to rest on his chest as she looked at him, smiling. "You've been my captain for so long...even when..." She swallowed, emotions had torn through her all day, she felt exhausted, yet...exuberant and..._warm_. "...you've _always_ been my captain..."

"I...well..." Michael shuffled awkwardly, looking away...then back to her, a smile in his eyes. "...how could I refuse to bow to such words?"

"Easy." Tali smirked, pulling her hand away. "You don't."

Silence.

Again, warm and comfortable...she felt as if she could stare at him for ages now, and without fear or embarrassment...

Then Michael cocked his head to the side. "So...you want to pick up your things? I mean...if you want to...?" Tali blinked, she hadn't thought about it, she had so few personal items...yet..._why not_? "And I wouldn't...you know..._mind_ seeing where you grew up...or meeting Shala'Raan in a less tense situation..." He shifted where he stood, looking uncomfortable and..._nervous_! "...less tense..._right_..."

"Sure, sounds like fun, we'll do all that..." Tali cocked her head to the side. "...why are you nervous though? I mean after all this...?"

"Hey!" Michael took a step back, feigning irritation, but really being amused with himself. "It's not every time you meet the family, you know!" Again, he looked a little awkward. "Erm...you know...not that I'm saying anything, or even _implying_-"

Tali laughed, grabbing his arm, yanking him towards where she last saw her aunt. "Commander Shepard, killer of Reapers, hero of the Citadel...and _terrified_ of an old woman!"

"I'm not _terrified_!" Michael protested, his free hand coming up, tapping his helmet before he remembered he couldn't rub the back of his neck. "Just...concerned."

And Tali laughed...

8

8

8

_Thanks to Abydos Jackson, for the moments._


	54. Chapter 54

"Commander."

They shook hands, parted ways...and Michael breathed a sigh of relief as he and Tali continued, continued _away_ from Kal'Reegar.

Ahead, already taking the lead, Tali giggled. "What's with you and Kal?" _Do you __have__ to nickname him_... "He's done nothing to deserve that cautiousness of yours."

Michael frowned at the question, well aware he had no good answer as he glanced back after the retreating back of the Quarian marine. They had been polite and respectful towards one another, for indeed there _was_ respect between them, in fact, Michael saw a lot of himself in that marine. _Which might be the problem_. He looked back to Tali, feeling his heart tighten ever so briefly. _Damn Donnelly and his talk about Tali and Quarian males_...

Then he bumped into a knee-high box.

Cursing, he twisted, letting his armoured boot come round the obstacle, for once, he didn't manage to hit something _else_ while doing the manoeuvre. "Dammit! That's the _fifth_ time! Why is this place so full of clutter?"

"That's supplies, so quit hitting them." Tali chuckled, manoeuvring around the boxes cluttering the hall with the enviable ease of someone used to such.

"There's storage areas for that...in fact, I think we're heading that way..." Michael grumbled, eyes looking left and right.

The Alarei had been a lab-ship, the Rayya was one for civilians, and it _showed_. There were a _lot_ of boxes in the hall, which had been the case in every corridor. Dozens hung from nets in the ceiling, more from the two walls, enough that Michael worried the nets would burst, sending the contents tumbling out. If they did, they would still fall onto yet _more_ boxes arranged along the sides of the corridors.

There was enough of them to make moving down any corridor difficult, just enough space had been left for a Quarian to move through it...but Michael was no Quarian, and his larger bulk and unaccustomed feet made each step a small procedure if he wasn't going to tackle his way through like some insensitive brute.

"We are." Tali replied, shooting him an amused glance as she moved round another crate before moving to a corner as another female Quarian appeared at the other end of the hall. _Dammit_. "That area has been converted to living quarters."

Grumbling, Michael moved to push himself against the wall, which was difficult with all the boxes there, watching as the other Quarian moved closer, raising a hand in greeting to Tali before looking at Michael with a curious cock of her head. Sighing, Michael pulled his chest in, knowing space would be difficult "Wait, living quarters? So...what do you do with the _actual_ living quarters?"

Tali didn't answer at first, the woman leaning back as the other Quarian stepped past her, then Michael, shoulder brushing against his chest as his greater mass made passing difficult. _How the hell do they endure these constantly cramped conditions_...? Tali shrugged. "They have lockable doors, so we convert them into freezers, fridges and storage rooms for hazardous materials."

"Okay..." Michael frowned. He'd talked a lot to Tali between the battle of the Citadel and his death...and of course heard a lot of what she did on the Flotilla, but such basic things as to where one lived and such...those things hadn't been brought up. "...doesn't that sort of ruin any chance of privacy? I mean, the storage area is just a big room..."

Again, Tali chuckled. "Just wait and see...we're almost there."

"Fine, fine..." Michael agreed, swallowing. _Almost there, that means Shala'Raan_. "...I'll be okay..."

"Huh?" _Dammit, she heard me_. Tali turned, looking at him. "Are you still worried about auntie Raan? I told you, it'll be _fine_." A shake of her head, her arms crossed over her chest as she leant back. "Don't you know I've told them nothing but good things about you? For an alien to be famous in the Flotilla takes quite a lot, you know?"

"Okay, I got it..." Michael moved closer, forcing himself to relax. "...but excuse me if I still want it to go well."

The Quarian chuckled, inching closer. "Don't worry, besides, even if it goes badly...do you _really_ think I'm one to let that change my mind about you?"

_And what __do__ you think about me_? He didn't dare ask, not even now, after everything. It was too soon; she had undergone too much for one day, in fact, so had he. So instead he shrugged and offered a short laugh. "I suppose not, you're too spunky for that."

"Heh...yes..." Tali muttered, staring at his chest, probably knowing what he was thinking and feeling uncomfortable. _Damn, can't hide anything from her_...

Silence.

Not uncomfortable...but neither was it comfortable, the two struggling for words to keep the conversation going.

Then Michael noticed the wall to the right...and arched an eyebrow. "Huh? What's with that room?" He pointed at the room one could look down at through the window. It was large, rectangular, the floor covered by a red rug...and completely empty. "You can barely move in your corridors and that place is _empty_!"

"Oh, _that_." Tali looked at the window, relaxing with a little nod. "The second space on the ship we allow as a luxury." She glanced over at him and his arched eyebrow...and sighed as she explained. "You already saw the other, the garden." _You mean that little grassy field_? _Wow_... "This is...well...a room for dancing."

_Dancing_! Michael blinked, momentarily taken aback, then frowned, searching his memory. "I...think you mentioned something about Quarian dancers..."

"That was _years_ ago!" Tali exclaimed in amused surprise. "But yes, when we left the homeworld in a haste much of our old culture was lost, but the old dances survived." A sigh. "They were famed throughout the galaxy before our exile, so...we kept it alive. However unproductive it is, however much space it needs...it's something we Quarian's embrace, part of us."

"You don't sound as if you approve?" Michael asked, curious.

"Oh I do, you know me, I'm Quarian to the bones." A small tut...and she shrugged, looking out through the window. "Though it's not really efficient..."

Michael laughed, giving her shoulder a playful push. "Not everything can be work, Tali! Heck, I think _you_ told me that once, what was it...something like; 'when I relax, so can you'?"

"Keelah...yes, yes, I get it..." There was a smirk in Tali's voice as she looked back to him. "Besides, you were being rude, it was _my_ party, dammit." Then back to the window, eyes narrowing as she grimaced. "Eugh, you should have seen when I came back here, auntie Rann _demanded_ I took some time off before going back to work...and since father was always too busy for being with the family..." A pause...then a shrug. "...so I took to _this_..." She looked over at him, a smile in her voice. "...I had to do _something_ with my time, after all."

Michael stared at her. "Wait...you _dance_!"

"Is that so difficult to believe!" Tali's voice rose in pitch as she shot him a glare...a glare fading under his smirk as she looked away, the slight darkening of her visor telling him she was blushing. "I mean...I'm not a _master_ or anything...I only practised for a few months...but I guess it was...fun."

Michael was grinning by now, arms crossed over his chest as he leant against the wall, eyes on Tali. "I'd love to see that, actually..."

"Not going to happen, mister!" Tali shoved him with a laugh, still looking as if she was blushing. "Jeez, I told you, _not_ a master...now let's go, before you embarrass me to death!"

She grabbed his hand and pulled him past the window, deftly rounding crates as Michael followed, feeling distracted as he moved so close behind, gaze dropping low, he couldn't help but chuckle at himself. "Hey, I'm just saying, I'm pretty sure you can manage quite a few moves with those hips..."

Tali slowed down, twisting slightly as she walked, glancing back at him. "I swear, if you're looking at them..." There was a warning in the tone, but not as angry as Michael had expected. "...I'll tell Donnelly you said that."

Michael tossed his head back at that, laughing. _Michael the hypocrite, Donnelly would have a field day_!

When he looked back down, he found them entering the storage area of the Rayya.

Only...it _wasn't_ a storage area.

"What the hell...?" Michael stared, shocked.

As a ship's storage area, it was built to sport an incredibly large area and have a high ceiling...but that was difficult to discern by now. Crude steel pillars had been erected along the entire length of the room, baulks welded between them with steel grills to create a second floor. Though it was surprisingly difficult to see that, for all of it had been covered in strips of cloth; purple, yellow, red and orange, the strips nearly covered every bit of the the steel skeleton creating a second floor in the room, making it seem warm and inviting rather then cold and brutal.

Leading the way, Tali dragged him forward onto the main floor, a smirk in her voice. "It's rude to gawk, Michael..."

Michael couldn't help himself though as he moved over the floor, head craning left and right.

The cloth wasn't just there to cover the monstrosity creating a second floor for the Quarians, there was a rainbow of draperies hanging from the ceiling, some from the steel itself, others from lines that had been tired from one pillar to the other. Most were of purple and orange, veils forming walls, the rooms between them small.

He couldn't help but reach out as he walked down the narrow path made in the area, brushing his fingers over some of the veils, they moved before the touch, revealing a room beyond. Beyond them a male and a female Quarian, sitting on a few cushions arranged in the small space, looked up at him in question, their hands still holding the bowls of soup, their eating straws still unused in their hands. "Oh, sorry..." Michael pushed back the veils as swiftly as he could, embarrassed even as he turned back to Tali. "So...how many of these...erm...'rooms'...does any one family get?"

"One." Tali replied with a shrug, still moving a forward.

Michael shook his head. "What? But those rooms are no more then forty square feet!"

"It's better then back at the Neema." Tali offered another shrug, then looked back at him. "Remember, Quarian's as a _race_ might be few, but _all_ of them must fit in a limited number of ships.."

"Well..._this_ certainly proves that." Michael pointed out, yet found himself smiling as he looked at everything around him. The veils gave a...lightness to an otherwise dull space, _colour_...however cramped a living space it was...it was _beautiful_. "And...wait...you live at the Neema nowadays, why is your stuff here?"

"There was a ceremony on the Rayya when I returned...and then I had the whole dance thing and...well...I owned so little I left it back in the shrine before moving to the Neema." An awkward shrug.

"Huh..." It was odd to imagine, having so little it made no difference if you had it at hand or not...then again...what did Michael himself _really_ own? "...wait..._shrine_?"

At first there was no answer from Tali, then she slowed down, lowering her head and tone. "We're here..."

Michael came to a halt.

It was, indeed, a shrine, though not an impressive one. It was a simple statue of worn and chipped grey stone, shaped like large triangle. It was standing atop a simple wooden desk with several open shelves beneath, atop it, flanking the statue, lit candles stood. Before the statue a few yellow cushions lay, all of them worn and frayed from use...one which Tali came to rest her knees upon as she offered the statue a brief bow.

"So...here you worship your ancestors...then?" Michael asked, finding himself lowering the volume of his voice as he stood behind Tali, unsure if he was supposed to bow or do anything else before the strange statue.

"Correct, Captain Shepard." Michael jumped and turned his head to the right, finding admiral Shala'Raan approach as she stepped through a haze of veils. "Even if most nowadays trust our engines more then our ancestors, some traditions are worth preserving." She turned her head to Tali. "Come for your belongings, child? Good, I hate to see things going unused."

"It's nothing valuable...but yes..." Tali murmured, the Quarian leaning forward and pulling out a small wooden box from one of the shelves in the desk. Michael recognised the Council's insignia on it, realising it was the box that had held the medal the Council had offered her and all of them after the battle of the Citadel.

"It is good that you're here, none the less." Shala'Raan retorted, then turned her head to Michael, eyes narrowing. "For I've wanted to see Shepard in _person_...after all, I have heard a lot about you, Captain."

"Ah..." Michael swallowed, nervousness grabbing him. "...erm..._good_ things...I hope?"

"I'm not sure..." Shala'Raan cocked her head to the side, eyes remaining narrowed. "..in the stories Tali told you seemed to be a very..._dangerous_ character."

_Oh_... Michael swallowed again, hesitating.

And Tali chuckled, turning her head slightly to look back at them. "Auntie...don't tease."

A little laugh...and Shala'Raan's visibly relaxed. "Very well, child..." She offered Michael a curt nod, her tone amused. "She's quite protective of you, isn't she?"

_What the hell do you say to that_! Michael hesitated. "As am I of her...?" _Great, confidently spoken there, really_.

"I could tell." Shala'Raan chuckled. "Quite the speech. And all of that from the top of your head...?" Michael flushed slightly at the question, shifting where he stood. It _had_ been words welling from the heart...he had simply been ranting, it hadn't really been an attempt to clear her name in the court, he had just been so _angry_...so _afraid_...and vented as best he could. The Quarian tilted her head to the side. "I see...well, it's good to know Tali's in good hands."

"She doesn't really need me to hold her hand." Michael replied as diplomatically as he could, feeling decidedly uncomfortable.

"Perhaps not always." Shala'Raan replied, then looked over at Tali, a smile in her glowing eyes. "But everyone needs...someone."

_Erm_..._what __did__ Tali tell her_! Swallowing, Michael looked over to Tali, who now slid to her feet and turned to them, looking a little embarrassed. "_Auntie_...!"

"Sorry, no teasing, was it?" The older Quarian chuckled. "All set? I understand you have a long journey ahead of you."

"A long journey is the life of a Quarian, I'll just have mine...parallel to the Flotilla's." Tali retorted, glancing at Michael. "It's dangerous though." She looked back at Shala'Raan. "So if I don't...well...you know...no blame will be cast on Michael...right?"

"That won't happen." Michael snapped, quick and decisively, glaring at Tali, daring her to contradict him.

She looked back...and then deflected her gaze, unable to meet his. "As you say..." _Damn right, as I say_...

"Well, that's reassuring to hear." Shala'Raan actually did sound relieved, happy, even. She turned to look at Michael, bowing her head. "Captain Shepard, it was an honour...I'm..._glad_ to have met you, Tali couldn't have asked for a better..." She held back, glancing at Tali, a smirk in her voice. "..._Captain_."

Tali visibly shifted where she stood, as did Michael, embarrassed. "Thank you, Admiral..."

Silence.

Then a chuckle coming from the older Quarian. "Yes, yes, I'll leave you two alone! Goodness...come by to see me goodbye later, child..." She stepped away, offering a final nod of her head...and left, swiftly disappearing behind the veils of the Quarian living quarters.

"That was..." Tali murmured, moving to face Michael, the little box in her hands held tightly against her belly.

"...awkward." Michael finished, hand coming up to rub his neck, only to hit his helmet. _Dammit_. "So...she's nice...I guess." He felt a little giddy though, slowly realising Shala'Raan hadn't said a single disapproval word of..._them_. "Though now I realise where you got your mouth from."

"I don't know what you're talking about..." Tali murmured, amused, but the amusement was muted as her right hand moved to open the lid to the box.

Michael couldn't help but look down, even though as he felt like an intruder.

He saw the silver bracelet Kaidan had given her two years ago. "I remember this..." Michael reached down, gently picking the ring up. It was simple, elegant..._lustrous_...

"Yes, I never saw a point in wearing it, it wasn't meant for me..." Tali replied, voice low as old memories seemed to swell between them.

Michael sighed, well aware Kaidan had really bought it for Ashley...his right hand held the bracelet as his left held up Tali's right. "That time has passed...he gave it to you...it _is_ yours now." He moved the bracelet over her hand, wrist...onwards..until it finally stopped over her forearm. He smiled at the sight, slowly removing his hand. "It looks good, you know..."

Silence.

Then Tali bowed her head, eyes looking down at the jewellery, head cocked as she curiously eyed the item. "Thank you..."

Michael smiled at her...then remembered to breathe as he looked back to the box. "Hey, what's this?" He reached down, plucking up a small silver-coloured memory-disk, holding it up before the light.

Tali's hand swiftly shot up, yanking it from him as she stepped closer. "Nothing!" A pause as she looked up at his shocked expression. "I mean...nothing important..." She paused, a strange look in her silvery eyes as she regarded him. "In fact..." She dropped the memory-disk to the floor, raised her foot...and let her heel come down on it with a resounding crack. "...that's much better."

"Oookay..." Michael raised an eyebrow, confused. "I thought you Quarian's saved everything useful...so you _could_ just have deleted whatever was on it..."

"I know." Tali chuckled. "But I guess I'm taking after you and your sense of dramatics..."

"I don't have a sense for dramatics!" Tali was visibly smirking at him. "That much...or overly...shut up." Michael smirked right back...then glanced down into the box again. "Hey, isn't that...?"

"Yes..." Tali muttered, hand coming down, fishing out the small computer he had given her so she could contact him for emergencies. That had been before his death, like the bracelet, but in contrast to the bracelet the computer looked worn, as if it had been held and used a lot, which was odd since she'd never contacted him before his death...

_Or maybe not so odd_... Michael grimaced, spotting the crack running down the middle of the old computer. It was broken, worn...and still in the box, precious to Tali.

"I...I'm sorry I broke it..." Tali muttered, pain in her voice. "I was just so angry and...hurt...it didn't work after you were...gone...and I just wanted...I don't know...I'm sorry..."

Michael inched closer, hand coming to hold hers as it held onto the little computer, managing a smile. "I'll get you a new one."

"Oh no!" A small laugh escaped Tali as she looked up at him. "I'm not letting you out of my sight, mister!"

"Is that a promise?" Michael asked, butterflies in his stomach as he leant forward.

Before him, Tali trembled...then laughed. "Someone has to make sure you stay alive, hero!" Her hand shot up, grabbing his breastplate as she inched closer, her voice shaking, but decisive. "You hear that? I'm not going _anywhere_."

Michael swallowed, unsure what to do, with his helmet he couldn't kiss her, with people around he felt awkward speaking...and with all that had happened so recently he didn't want to take advantage of a Tali in turmoil. "Good..." He stepped back, forcing himself to breathe again. "...that makes me _very_ glad, you know..."

Tali didn't answer at first, her hand slowly detaching itself from his chest, an odd look in her eyes as she watched him. "You know...I'm quite all right, with everything that happened, I mean."

"You...are? Even with your father?" Michael asked, worry digging into him.

"Yes, even with him." Tali giggled, shaking her head. "I mean, I was distraught at the moment...but it's...hard to grieve for a stranger. And then with all you said...with the people rallying like that..." She straightened a little, perking up. "...I think I actually got off better than when I arrived, I feel..._better_, honestly."

"Good." Michael didn't know what else to say, so he gestured backwards. "Ready to head back...home?"

"Yes...lead the way, Captain." Tali had a smirk in her voice. "Move those hips..."

And Michael laughed.

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_Thanks to Abydos Jackson, for all the memories old and future ones._


	55. Chapter 55

"_Really_?" Garrus offered Zaeed an incredulous look. "You'd pick the Avenger over the Vindicator?"

They were in the dining hall, their food nothing but scraps by now on the table between them. Behind Zaeed and to the right, Rupert, the cook, was pouring up more food for Gabby and Kenneth, the two engineers deep in conversation as they moved for the other table, leaving the other for the ground team. Currently, Garrus was sharing that table with Zaeed opposite him, Thane next to the mercenary and Tali sitting next to Garrus.

Garrus had invited Tali to eat with them to distract her from everything that has happened, but now, looking at her, he wondered if it was needed. Tali seemed..._happy_...even now, sitting next to Garrus and concentrating on the soup she was drinking through her straw...there was something _cheerful_ about her.

Thane _hadn't_ been invited, not surprisingly, since the assassin kept to himself, avoiding contact with all but Michael and, surprisingly, the also reclusive Asari Justicar. Even now he seemed content to ignore the conversation next to him as he calmly but efficiently ate spoon after spoon of a soup that was as green as him. In contrast to Jacob, Garrus didn't mind the assassin, Garrus' old team on Omega had contained quite a few mercenaries and the like wishing to make amends after all...so the Turian respected what Thane was trying to do.

"Any time." Zaeed answered Garrus' question, the grizzled veteran shooting what little remained on his plate a grimace before pushing it aside. "You always pick the reliable gun when you have the choice."

"Come now. The Vindicator has the accuracy, the range _and_ the impact...a larger clip won't compare to all that." Garrus argued, grinning.

Garrus _liked_ the mercenary, which was a bit of a surprise. But despite his profession, Zaeed shared Garrus' hatred of his kind, or rather, what they now had become. He was also solid and dependable, spoke his mind and didn't mind having a drink or two with you...like Michael, sans the humour. Currently he eyed Garrus with a frown, his hoarse voice showing a distinct lack of humour as he spoke. "Sure, it's great for fighting in those civilised cityscapes like Omega." _Civilised_! "But give it a try in a _real_ battlefield; there you want a gun that can handle the punishment, you want it working even after it's been lying in mud, after being hit with shrapnel and having been used as a club...then you want something that isn't so damn frail. The Avenger is still being used despite it's age for a _reason_, son."

"Yeah, cheapness." Garrus snorts back, though the smile remains on his face. "So if you want reliability, why not the Mattock? Now _that's_ a gun."

It had really surprised Garrus, but the Mattock, a primitive old weapon used by human colonists...had by now become his weapon of choice. It was accurate in skilled hands and had great punch, nearly making it a semi-automatic sniper rifle in Garrus' claws, his real sniper rifle only being used at more extreme ranges.

Now it was Zaeed's turn to snort. "Durable, powerful, dependable, sure, it's great..." A grunt. "...if you like to drag a wheelbarrow along with you to carry all the extra heat sinks you need to not run out of ammo."

Garrus chuckled. "Maybe you're just a poor marksman?"

Zaeed shook his head at him. "Not everyone uses every gun they have as if they're sharpshooting, boy. An assault rifle _needs_ rate of fire so you can lay down suppressive fire, if I want to hit a far off target I use my sniper rifle."

Silence.

Then Garrus shrugged. "Fine, so you're set on the Avenger." _Now I know what humans mean about old dogs_..."But if you want rate of fire...why not the Revenant then, the one Michael uses?"

"We're talking _assault rifles_, not machine guns." The human grumbled, shaking his head. "That boy is strong, but damn, a machine gun _and_ a grenade launcher, not to mention the other guns, on your back...I feel sorry for his spine."

Garrus sighed, turning his eyes to Thane, realising he would need support in making Zaeed turn to a more efficient weapon. "Thane? An opinion?"

The Drell looked up, hand slowly lowering his spoon back into the bowl, releasing it before he interlocked the fingers of his hands before him, his eerie black eyes on Garrus. "I do not use assault rifles, they do not suit a man of my profession, I am not trained in its use."

"Sure, but please, you have an _opinion_, I'm sure." Garrus pressed even as he remembered why he didn't try to talk to the assassin that often.

"A weapon is a tool of destruction, of death, and there are various tools for various tasks, as it should be." Thane responded, sounding as if he was giving a lecture. "To have a preference for one weapon blinds you to other options, I use what fits the situation. Example; if I expect to fight up close, my choice of submachine gun is the Tempest, at longer ranges, I bring the Locust." The Drell shrugged. "As with any tool; if a weapon was never a valid option for any situation it would no longer be made."

"Long story short, the Avenger is still a good rifle." Zaeed concluded with a nod, arms crossed over his chest.

"Fine...but I still say there's nothing wrong with having a _preferred_ weapon..." Garrus shot Thane a glance, then looked back to Zaeed. "...one that has more punch then a gust of wind." The mercenary just grunted, not deigning to respond to the tease. "Tali, you always run around with a shotgun, what's your preference there?"

The Quarian blinked, looking up at Garrus as she pulled the eating straw free from her helmet, hands fumbling to put the speech unit back in place. "I'm sorry, what?"

_Distracted, huh_? Garrus grinned, glancing over at what Tali had been looking at. _Surprise, surprise, Michael_. The human was talking to Miranda, both humans frowning and now and again nodding as they agreed with whatever the other one was saying. Still grinning, Garrus ignored the slight narrowing of Tali's eyes as he repeated. "We're talking weapons miss, focus. You have a preference for what shotgun you use?"

"Eviscerator..." The Quarian shrugged, not really interested. "Though I _did_ get a hold of a Geth designed shotgun back on the Alarei, I'm thinking of trying it..."

Garrus looked back to Zaeed, who, reading his mind, shook his head. "Don't go there, the pulse rifle annoys me and is as frail as the damn Vindicator."

Rolling his eyes, Garrus looked back to Tali, deciding to change topic. "So...got a new shotgun on the Alarei, huh? Got anything new on the Rayya while you went to get your things too...?" He shot Michael, now nodding at something Miranda was saying, a meaning look. "I mean, while I was off talking to Admiral Gerrel...?"

"I...don't know what you're talking about." Tali looked away, a slight chuckle escaping her. "Besides, I hardly think it's any of your business, you'll just tell Kelly and then the whole ship will know in days."

"Hey! She's not a gossip!" Garrus protested, a bit too swiftly for his own taste. "Besides, what makes you think I'll tell her anything you tell me in confidence?"

"Oh _please_." The Quarian leant away from him as she regarded him, a smirk in her voice. "She has you wrapped so tightly around her little finger that it's embarrassing." Garrus' mandibles flared in irritation. "Really, where did the tough Turian renegade go? You become such a softie around her."

Zaeed chuckled. "That's because he's anything _but_ soft around her." Garrus shot the mercenary a glare, but Zaeed wasn't intimidated. "Don't give me that look, boy, it's good for you, releases some of that tension."

"Which he _really_ needs." Tali chuckled, leaning forward on the table, looking at Zaeed. "Trust me, Garrus here has a _lot_ of tension he needs to work through."

Zaeed laughed even as Garrus frowned in irritation as he found his teasing turning _him_ into the target. "This coming from the Quarian who wants to do nothing but jump our Commander?"

Tali leant back, momentarily taken aback, then chuckled, giving his shoulder a playful punch. "Trying to change the subject, are you? Come on, so...are you two...?"

"I...suppose we're together...yes." Garrus smiled, irritation melting away at the thought of it. His world had been screwed up for so long; he no longer worked in C-sec, his work on Omega had gotten his team killed and not changed much, everything was spinning out of his control, besides this mission...his life was in ruins. Yet Kelly was there..._wanted_ to be there...and it anchored him, made the world...not so dark. He shook his head, clearing it of the thoughts as he eyed Tali with a smirk. "And you didn't deny my accusation about wanting to jump the Commander..."

Silence.

Then Tali cocked her head to the side, not looking away. "No, I didn't."

Garrus spluttered, Zaeed chuckled...and Thane glanced at the two with an annoyed look on his face as he returned to his meal. Garrus managed to recover, though his plates itched ever so slightly with embarrassment. "Oh...well that's a new one..." Then he smiled, amused. "...something really _did_ change back there, didn't it?"

"I...wouldn't say _changed_..." Tali muttered, wistful as she looked over at the distant Michael. "...not that it's much _use_ to think about." She looked up at Garrus, gesturing for her visor, then back to Michael. "But it's...nice."

Garrus glanced over at Zaeed, the man suddenly looking _very_ interested, which wasn't much of a surprise given the circumstances. Then he looked back to Tali, trying to sound uninterested. "So...you two...are you together now or...?"

"No!" Tali exclaimed, head whipping back to look at Garrus. "No...I mean of course not, it's not like...well...I don't know...I know the answer's 'no', though." She actually sounded..._disappointed_.

Opposite him, Zaeed grumbled something under his breath, disappointed as he realised he had lost fifty credits. So had most by now...even Garrus, who by now was simply enjoying almost everyone else losing as well. _At least the one running the betting pool will make a killing_..._damn_ _Joker_. Garrus had considered telling Michael about how the crew were betting on when he and Tali would get together, but considering the Turian himself had put his credits forth he had judged such a move...imprudent.

"Well...I hear that humans assume the _man _issupposed to make the move..." Garrus muttered, leaning closer on his elbow. "...but Kelly loves to defy that standard...and maybe you should do the same?"

"I...that's a thought..." Tali murmured, hands fiddling with one another as she glanced at Garrus, only to turn her silvery eyes to Michael. "...but I..." She looked down at her lap, the way her visor darkened suggesting a blush. "...no...I don't think I..._could_."

Silence.

Then Garrus' brow-plate rose as he chuckled. "Wait...is this because all of that stuff he said back on the Rayya! Come on! We _all_ know that's true! Hell, if anything it should motivate you all the more to make a move!"

"That's damn easy to _say_!" Tali snorted, shooting him a glare. "We've been through so much...it's difficult to just...get through it, okay! I mean...what am I supposed to _do_? It's not like I could...or even..." A frustrated puff of air. "...I'm not sure..."

"Well..." Feeling more bold, Garrus leant closer, grinning. "...maybe you should hurry up then? I mean he and Miranda are warming up to one another, and I _know_ half the galaxy's women just fawn at the thought of the great hero..." He added a wink as Tali's eyes widened. "...just saying...someone might steal him away."

"I..." Tali hesitated, cocking her head to the side. "...I..." Then her tone warmed up. "...I'm not actually worried about that." A soft shake or her head, a grin in her voice. "Sorry, Garrus, but you can't wind me up about that...I feel secure in where I have him." She looked over to Michael, head tilted to the side. "The problem's just..._getting_ him."

"Sometimes the simplest path is the best." Garrus blinked, looking over at Thane, the assassin pushing his now empty bowl away, his hand then coming to find the white handkerchief he had brought. "Few words are needed, the only thing required is the bravery to speak them." He moved the handkerchief up, dabbing his mouth before dropping it back to the table. "Considering what we're set to do, I would suggest you find that bravery, and soon. Now excuse me..." He rose to his feet, straightening his jacket. "...I must meditate."

Silence, the Drell leaving.

"Yeah..." Garrus arched a brow-plate as he turned back to Tali, shooting a thumb at the space Thane had been in. "...what he said...without the...weirdness."

Tali giggled, making Garrus smile. _She's done that more often as of later_..._it's good to see her happy_.

"Hey guys..." The two looked up in surprise, finding Michael standing next to them, looking a little uncomfortable as he rubbed the back of his neck. "...we're heading for Omega, Samara needs to deal with something there, but en-route I thought we'd take a stop at...Alchera..."

Silence.

Garrus looked at Tali, who at first didn't notice it, her stare fixed on Michael...but who then glanced over at him, silver eyes large. Garrus' mandibles clicked together as he looked back to Michael. "Alchera...that's where the old Normandy crashed..."

"Yeah...I'd...like to go down there, if only for a while." Michael looked away, gaze distant as he drew a shuddering breath. "To see what's left..." Then he turned back to them, looking awkward. "And if it's not asking too much I'd...be happy if you'd come with me. I mean, it's not a mission or anything, so I don't feel as if I could really _order_ you or anything...but I'd-"

"Michael." Garrus interrupted, raising a hand, smiling. "You think we won't come with you? We'd be happy to, I mean..." He hesitated, grimacing. "...I'd like to see it too...it was my home as well..."

Tali didn't speak at first, cocking her head to the side as she eyed Michael with a curious look in her eyes. "You knew where it crashed, you've known it for a long time..." She didn't ask, she didn't need to.

Michael shifted where he stood, nodding. "Yeah, yeah I have...but I haven't dared...well...that's in the past." A shrug, the man smiling down at them, looking a little more at ease. "I think I'm ready to go down there now...see it and...get past it."

"We'll be there." Tali instantly replied, raising her right hand up.

Michael took it, holding it as he smiled, shoulders slumping as he met her gaze. "Thanks."

Garrus smirked, waving his hand between the pair looking at one another, making them look over at him in surprise. "You're _welcome_."

At least the two had the decency to blush.

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_Thanks to Abydos Jackson, for all._


	56. Chapter 56

The snow crunched under his boots.

He could hear that because the planet had the slightest of atmospheres, an atmosphere allowing for sound...

_Screams, screams of agony echoing in my helmet_...

...for the smallest of winds to make flakes of snow whip around...

..._whipping bared flesh_..._tearing it apart_...

...to feed oxygen to the fire caused by the shuttle's engines behind him...

..._fire, melting skin, burning bone_...

Michael came to a halt, his gaze fixed upon the ground between his feet, two boots of dark armour denting an otherwise white field of snow.

He didn't, he _couldn't_ look up...not at that dark sky, that void, where he had...

The lump in his throat grew, suffocating him, making his breaths coming out in tiny gasps in his helmet. _Like before_..._no air, can't breathe_...

The snow was cold, he could _feel_ it, despite his armour being sealed and heated.

_Cold seeping into broken flesh and exposed ribs, fingers tearing as I crawl, ice burning in my lungs_..._gasping, trying to beg, something, __anything_..._and_ _no_ _answer_...

He squeezed his eyes shut.

But he couldn't stop hearing it; his raspy breaths as his broken body dragged itself forward, unwilling to die even as parts of him froze solid and the rest burnt to nothing...

_I'm alive, I'm alive, I'm alive_...

_Dying_...

"Commander!" Someone called. _Miranda_..._after_..._after_ _I_..._alive_... "Commander?"

Forcing his eyes open, Michael turned his head, slowly, sluggishly, feeling as if he was moving in water. Miranda, head mostly obscured by a breathing mask, stood atop a small mound of rocks and broken metal, whatever it had been was impossible to tell. Her eyes showed though, an odd look in them, one he hadn't seen before.

"Yes?" The voice wasn't his own; like a strangled croak.

Miranda didn't speak, she raised her right fist, something glinting in it.

_A name tag_... Michael swallowed and held out his hand.

Miranda slid down the mound, walked forward and handed over the chain and metal plate, looking hesitant. Michael took it, he didn't know why Miranda wanted to come along, perhaps to report his reaction to the Illusive man, currently, Michael couldn't care. He looked down at the tag, it was singed, melted, bent, the name unrecognisable. _The magnetic mark will tell us whose_..._this_ _was_. He nodded, moving the tag down to attach it to his belt. "Thank you..."

Miranda didn't answer, the woman simply nodding as she stepped away, head turning left and right, searching for more in the ruins.

An impossible task.

Michael kept his gaze low, fearing to look at the sky. He _could_, however, see the devastation.

Surprisingly much of the Normandy had survived, pieces of the hull rising up from the cover of snow like black cliffs. It lay strewn around in a large area, each fallen piece having created a crater in the ground, craters now slowly becoming filled by falling snow.

How long until the snow would cover the crumpled remains? Turning the broken pieces into snowy hills? How long until _nothing_ remained?

_I_ _remain_..._I_ _remain_...

"Michael." A crunch...and Garrus landed before him. With his helmet on, it was impossible to see Garrus' face, to judge his mood...but there was something in his stance as he held out his hands. "Here."

Michael, glad to look down, further away from the sky, moved his gaze down to Garrus' hands.

His helmet glared back at him.

_No_.

He took a step backwards, staring, eyes wide. The helmet was charred, the visor was cracked open, a large hole through the glass a hole becoming small at the back...

_Head burning, left eye blinking, watching blood pour from my face, hands scrabbling to reach the burning piece of steel_...

Garrus was lowering the offered helmet, voice muted. "Sorry..."

"I..." Michael reached out, taking the helmet before he knew what he was doing. "...don't be." _It's not my helmet_... He held up the broken item, what remained of the glassed visor showing his own reflection, he _was_ wearing a helmet, he could _see_ it...and it calmed him. _Not_ _mine_...

Then he saw the darkness, the reflection of the sky.

His mouth opened, but no words came as his head turned. He didn't _want_ to look up, he didn't _dare_ to...yet his head moved none the less, heedless of his wish.

The darkness above swallowed his vision, made it spin, the stars twinkling above whirled about, making burning trails in the sky, searing his eyes with their cold light.

_I_ _fell_...

He could see himself falling, body flailing uselessly as he hurtled towards the ground, a living comet, burning in the atmosphere, pieces of armour coming off...pieces of _him_ coming off...

He stumbled, fell...only for hands to push against the back, keeping him standing.

His heavy breathing echoed in the helmet, hard and fast, hyperventilating as he tried to get air into lungs squeezed shut. _There's no air, only fire, screams_...

"It's not real." Tali's voice, a mumble behind him as the hands on his back moved, slowly making him turn. "You _live_..."

_Live_...

Michael shook his head, eyes squeezed shut even as he found the hands pressing against his chest. He _couldn't_ believe he lived, not when he felt it; felt the fire, the lack of air, the agony surging through him...

The hands gripped onto his breastplate, pulling him forward until he bumped into her. "Look at me..." Again, he shook his head, eyes sealed shut. "_Look_ at me..."

The command couldn't be refused, _her_ command couldn't be refused...

He opened his eyes.

Tali's silvery eyes were close, the woman looking up to him, holding onto him, holding him fast...

His anchor.

Michael shivered, forcing his eyes to remain open with a force of will, his hands moving forth, circling her waist, pulling her a little closer, lowering his head.

A clack, visor hitting visor, resting against one another.

_This_..._this_ _is_ _real_. He gripped her a little tighter, a shuddering breath escaping him as the vice around his lungs relented, his shoulders slumping as he closed his eyes, this time...relaxed.

Silence.

Then his voice, a whisper. "Thank you..."

And he let go of the pain.

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Tali yawned.

She really ought to be nervous, and she _had_ been...two hours ago.

She had chickened out of her plan though, and however much she hated herself for it, she felt...comfortable.

When they had returned from Alchera, the Normandy had turned to head for Omega. Michael hadn't told Tali what he was supposed to do to help Samara, only that he didn't need any backup save the Asari...and Tali trusted his judgement when it came to such matters. Still, she didn't like him going into danger alone, and after their moment on Alchera...she didn't like him being alone, away from her, _period_.

She had remembered how Michael had tried to distract her from her thoughts about the accusations laid against her though...and when they returned she had wished to do the same. Michael _had_ seemed relaxed at the end...but Tali knew far too well that not having to think about it when you came back home also helped...

She had _also_ remembered Thane and Garrus' words...and almost felt ashamed with the little plan she had cooked up. She couldn't well say what she wanted to say in Engineering, nor on some mission or where other people could interrupt. It was awkward enough as it was...

So they had come back to the ship...and Tali had dragged Michael away, telling him he needed to relax, and what better way to relax then to sit down on the couch in his quarters with a good movie playing on the wall? A little _company_ couldn't hurt either...and the fact that they sat down to watch 'Fleet and Flotilla'...probably the most romantic movie involving Quarians ever _made_...well that was just an unfortunate pick of the oh so innocent Tali...

It had been a pretty good plan, brave even, or so Tali thought. Unfortunately she hadn't quite dared to execute the _second_ half of the plan...the one involving her actually _speaking_ to the man next to her.

So instead she had sat there, knees pulled up to her chest, feeling small and nervous as she watched the Turian-Quarian drama on the screen unfold, _very_ aware of the other viewer next to her.

Or so it had been for a time...for Tali had forgotten that although 'Fleet and Flotilla' had been her _favourite_ movie when she had gotten back to the Flotilla...she had also seen it so many times that she had learned to get bored with it, even so far as finding it _annoying_. So after a while she had started to lean back, relax...and now she found herself half asleep, her head resting on Michael's shoulder as her eyes slowly closed.

_Falling asleep on the couch, watching a movie in your home_... She managed a sleepy smile at the warming thought.

_Home_...

Tali _felt _at home. The Normandy had been part of her life for so long that the change of name hadn't really changed anything in her mind...she _was_ Vas Normandy...in heart and soul.

It all felt so...right.

To her right Michael sat, the man's left arm resting on the backrest behind her, his eyes fixed on the screen, where the movie was reaching the oh so dramatic climax as the Turian Lieutenant unmasked the Quarian protagonist.

Despite being nearly asleep, Tali rolled her eyes. _Here we go, of course you won't show the face, we have to keep up the __mystery__, it's not like any viewer can't look us up on the extranet_...

Next to her Michael didn't look like he found anything odd with it, in fact...Tali was quite sure he'd never _once_ looked for Quarian's on the extranet.

She wasn't sure what to make of that, actually...was it out of some wish not to ruin the mystery with _her_ face...or to respect his old decision to delete the picture she had taken of herself so long ago? _Maybe he's just not interested_...

It was a sad thought, but it didn't jar Tali too much, the woman's head dropping a bit as her eyelids got heavier and heavier. _ At least he makes a good_... She yawned. ..._pillow_.

Next to her Michael shot her a glance, though in her sleepy state Tali couldn't quite bring herself to meet his eyes as her own slowly closed into slits. Instead she nuzzled closer, content to drift off as Michael watched what little remained of the movie.

_So I didn't say it_..._this_ _was_ _nice_ _anyway_..._I_ _can_..._live_ _with_ _this_. She smiled, yawning once more, feeling as if the ship was swaying back and forth, slowly rocking her to sleep.

Her breathing was getting slower, her body more...distant...and Tali was sure sleeping on the couch, using Michael's shoulder as a pillow...would lead to a proper night's sleep.

She didn't remember last time she had had one of those, actually.

_A good evening_...

The thought was sluggish, as slow as that of her eyes closing...

Then she saw him lean closer.

_What is he_...

Tali froze, panic the only thing stopping her eyes from opening wide in shock as she saw Michael turn to face her.

_This isn't happening_...

He was leaning closer...

_I'm dreaming, I'll wake up any moment now_...

Closer, his eyes closing...

_He doesn't_..._he_ _wouldn't_..._keelah_...

And then he reached her, lips pursing, pressing against her visor.

_Keelah, keelah, keelah, keelah_...

Tali's toes curled, her body going rigid, her breathing stopping, her eyes opening wide, staring at him.

Then he pulled back, slowly, almost reluctantly, removing his lips from her visor, his eyes opening...

_Keelah_!

Tali squeezed her eyes shut in panic, unable to come up with a better response then to hide behind a pretence of sleeping.

Silence.

Then Michael's voice, a soft whisper. "You're awake...aren't you?"

_Don't answer, he doesn't know for sure_... Tali opened her eyes, just a tiny crack, finding the hazy outline of the human still leaning over her, something resembling a smile on his lips. _Don't answer_...

Her mouth betrayed her; a squeak escaping her lips. "No...?"

A small chuckle was Michael's response, the man now clearly smiling at her.

"How did you...?" She couldn't finish the question. She couldn't seem to get air into her lungs; it was impossible to even _breathe_ as she now openly stared at the soft smile on the man before him.

"Sleeping people don't curl their toes like that..." Michael glanced down, then back up at her. "...nor do they stop breathing...or whimper, for that matter." He flashed her a grin.

"I didn't whimper..." Tali protested meekly, finding her hands pressing into Michael's chest.

Michael looked down, at her hands, the grin fading, hesitation and pain entering his stance. "I...if you disapprove..." He started to pull back...

And Tali's fingers curled, gripping into his collar, stopping his retreat. Her heart beat hard and fast, making her gasp...but it couldn't stop the hushed words escaping her lips. "Only if you take it back." She tugged at his shirt, pulling him closer as she breathed heavily, warmth flooding her limbs, making her feel..._great_. "I...for so long...I'm so relieved you finally..."

"Well...a lot of things have happened." Michael chuckled softly, right hand winding around her waist, left resting on the backrest behind her as he remained close. His chest pressed against her hands, forehead against the top of her visor as he closed his eyes, breathing out in relief...and Tali found herself doing the same.

Relief.

Silence.

Then the softest of chuckles, making Tali open her eyes, finding Michael grinning at her. "And what do you mean '_you_ finally'? Are you incapable of taking the initiative or something?"

Tali snorted, her right hand slapping his chest. "And what was _I_ supposed to do? I can't well kiss you...what, was I supposed to lean over and stick my hand down your pan..." She blushed at Michael's sudden smirk, slapping his chest once more. "...shut up."

Their eyes closed once more, forehead meeting visor, three-digited hands curling around a thick neck, five-digited hands around a small waist.

Tali's shoulders slumped, her body warm, tense with excitement, yet so _relaxed_, the sheer relief of a tension she had often not even been _aware_ of releasing like a drug in her system as she lay back, eyes closed in bliss.

_Finally_...

The moment lingered, neither willing to speak, to even breathe.

Yet it couldn't last forever, and Tali was almost glad Michael was the one to break it, though his words puzzled her. "So...what does this mean, then?"

"Wh-why do you ask _me_!" Tali gasped, staring up at Michael as he looked down at her, head cocked to the side. "I mean..._look_ at me! I wasn't allowed to date before the pilgrimage, don't grimace, it's like that for everyone since we switch ships after it. Then the hunt for Saren...coming back only to be stuck on missions, not to mention being a workaholic stuck in this suit...I know _nothing_ about this." She smirked at the end, her right hand coming off Michael's neck, moving to press against his chest. She couldn't stop _touching_ him... "So the question really should be aimed to _you_, you're the one with _experience_, after all."

"Well...not _really_..." Michael grimaced, a pensive look on his face as he stared at her stomach, his right hand left her waist to make a waving gesture between them. "Not with...this kind of...you know..."

"With an alien? A Quarian?" Tali asked, voice muted even though she didn't blame him, she had had the same sort of thoughts, after all... "Or...a girl in a suit like this? I mean...I know that makes things awkward, and I can't..." She blinked, finding tears in her eyes. "...I can't do everything we perhaps _should_..."

"What? No!" Michael shook his head, looking honestly confused. "No, I meant with...you know..." He struggled for the word, biting his bottom lip...then looked back up at her, chuckling. "...a real..._woman_."

"Oh..." Tali blinked, unsure what he meant, then understood the compliment behind the admission. "_Oh_...!" Her face burnt. "Well...err...I honestly have no answer to that...I...oh..."

Michael's free hand came up, rubbing the back of his neck as Tali fidgeted where she lay.

_Awkward_...

Then Tali shone up, the hand on his chest gripping onto his shirt, pulling him closer, her heart began to beat fast again, but her voice was a low mutter. "How about...defining it as we go?"

Michael smiled at that, nodding. "I'd like that..."

Again, head touching visor, yet this time their eyes remained opened as the two met each other's gaze, unashamed with their need to see one another, to _hold_ one another.

Then Michael grinned. "So...first of all...I think you're allowed to sit more comfortably."

"Wha...ah!" Tali yelped as Michael rolled to the left, the hand still attached to her waist pulling her with him, making her left leg shoot out to catch herself as she was flipped over.

A thud...and she found herself sitting atop Michael, one leg on each side as she had been moved to straddle him. _Oh_... Tali blushed, gaze moving downwards. Quarians were smaller than humans, yet with her wide hips it actually _was_ comfortable...a good fit. _Ohhh_... The blush worsened.

Silence.

She swallowed, forcing her gaze up to Michael, finding that irritating smirk on his lips as he rested his hands on her hips, an eyebrow arched in question.

_No, not falling for it today mister, won't loose my cool_...

Honestly, she had lost it _ages_ ago, her body was burning, her heart thumping wildly, veins buzzing with happiness...but she wouldn't let that stop her. Leaning forward she let her arms rest on Michael's chest...she took a deep breath...and moved her hands over to Michael's shoulders. Letting her chest rest against his, she could feel his heart beat, slower but harder then hers, as her hands moved down his arms. Somehow, she managed to keep her voice coy. "Then I guess you're allowed...this." She found his hands on her hips...and moved them lower.

Both breathed in at the same time at the contact, pressing against one another...and then Michael managed a a somewhat nervous chuckle. "So...you won't hack my alarm again?"

Tali smirked, surprised with how at ease with the situation she suddenly felt. "Not unless you don't take advantage..."

Michael grinned...and the grip on her tightened, drawing a moan she didn't think herself capable of from her. _Keelah_...

Then Michael's grip slackened, making Tali open eyes she didn't realise she had closed, he wasn't smiling any more, making her blink in confusion, his face deadly serious.

Silence, his hands sliding off her backside.

Only to come up between them, hands snaking around her thin neck and into her hood as they moved to the back of her helmet, pulling her head closer as he looked into her eyes.

Tali swallowed, throat closing up.

"I...had a speech but..." A nervous little chuckle.

Silence, the serious look holding her gaze trapped.

"Tali...I love you."

_Keelah_!

She practically collapsed on him at the words, somehow finding herself shocked, despite having _known_ it, known it for so _long_... "Keelah, and I..." The hands moving to Michael's shoulders were clawing at him, not knowing what to do as she gasped, mouth unable to stop moving. "And I..." She shuddered, eyes closing as her visor moved to touch his forehead as her voice died to a whisper. "...and I love _you_..._so_ much..."

Then silence descended.

Tali curled up atop Michael, her hands finding his between the two of them as a..._serenity_ fell upon them.

For no more words were needed.

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_Thanks to Abydos Jackson for doing what she does best._


	57. Chapter 57

Michael felt...distracted.

He wasn't sure if that was good or bad news.

Perhaps it _was_ good not to focus too much on the Asari ahead of him, so calmly leading the way to her...lair. That way she couldn't do...whatever it was they did, Samara's description of it had been confusing to say the least, it just seemed..._impossible_. Yet on the other hand not focusing on the task at hand was dangerous during _any_ mission, and when the enemy was so close you could easily _touch_ her, all the more so.

Yet it was impossible to not have his mind wander, to stop thinking about..._her_.

How long had he snuggled up with Tali in his cabin? He had had no way of judging, and even less so when they had fallen asleep, still refusing to let go of one another...

He still couldn't really believe it had happened, so his mind kept replaying it all, over and over...and the memories made him...giddy. _Such a curious emotion_...

Still, there was a little guilt. For despite having trouble believing what had happened...he had _planned_ it, he had thought of the recent mission...and he had kissed Tali. He had done it out of love, true, but the _timing_...it had been chosen to build his resolve, to emotionally strengthen him before facing this strange..._succubus_.

Michael grimaced. He remembered what Garrus had said back when they had helped Mordin. He had taken a moral stand, it's true, but the ulterior motive had been to secure a possible ally in the Krogan...

Michael wasn't...all that proud of that decision.

And now he had done the same to Tali, he had taken something beautiful, something precious...and he had used it strategically, to strengthen his mental disposition against whatever effect the Ardat-Yakshi had.

It was...frightening.

_Am I becoming the old me again_? _All tactics and cold calculations_? _Trying to get any edge I can_? _I_..._don't_ _want_ _to_ _go_ _back_ _to_ _that_ _place_.

"Michael?" Morinth turned, glancing at him with an arched brow. It was eerie how much she resembled Samara, if he hadn't known better he'd figured her to be the Justicar with a change to black leather. "Is something wrong?"

Michael blinked, then nodded, forcing a smile. "Of course, lead on, babe."

Morinth frown, confused...and Michael forced his smile to widen, to leer at her even. Obviously most of her victims didn't get distracted from her when being led to their death...

Shrugging, the Asari stopped, gesturing for a dark door. "In here then, please...make yourself at home."

And Michael entered.

The room within was only dimly lit, as well as sparsely furnished, the most striking furniture being an exceedingly large couch at one end...and an even larger bed at the other. Over both the furniture a sword was attached to the wall, both looking somewhat worn. _The sword of Damocles_..._how_ _fitting_.

Michael forced himself not to smirk, however, knowing he'd have to stall a bit longer before revealing his true nature, making sure Samara was nearby.

So far he wasn't worried though. It had been _easy_ to attract the attention of the Ardat-Yakshi, Samara knew her daughter's mind, her vices...and that combined with some research into earlier victims and Michael had presented himself as the ideal 'partner' for Morinth... The fact that he had managed to combine that with the cruel attitude he had had back on Earth had simply sealed the deal, Morinth was more then willing to show him a 'good time' after a few drinks...

_What's the danger_? Michael was unsure, _realistically_ he understood that someone that had spent four hundred years hunting and killing people was a dangerous person. But so far he didn't understand what was so special about this murderer, there was none of the mystical power that Samara seemed to hint at...

Morinth brushed past him, catching his hand and pulling him towards the couch. As she walked Michael couldn't help but study her, curious.

_Sure, she's good looking, but so are a lot of women_..._sure_, _that's_ _an_..._alluring_ _costume_,_ but I sort of_..._expected_..._more_.

_She's got nothing on Tali, that's for sure_.

Turning, Morinth dragged him to sit down on the couch next to her, the Asari cocking a brow. "What's with the smile?"

Michael, irritated with himself, realised a warm smile had spread to his lips, and erased it with a grin. "Oh, just thinking about what's to come..."

"Oh? And what _is_ to come?" The Asari offered a smirk, as she leant closer, holding his gaze. "Any...ideas?" Her right hand moved to her jaw, and then slowly downward, somehow making Michael aware of her body even as his gaze remained fixed on hers.

_Nothing on Tali_..._just_ _an Asari, a woman, someone I can touch_..._hold_..._taste_... Michael blinked, confused by the odd thought. He didn't rightly mind the fact that he couldn't touch Tali in any way but with the suit between them, sure, he didn't _like_ it, but he wasn't about to throw what they had away because of such a thing, he had _accepted_ the way it would be._ To touch smooth thighs, taste sweet nectar_..._to_ _feel_..._around_ _me_...

Again, he blinked, finding himself flushing as Morinth's eyes filled his vision, her pale blue irises looked like an ocean...and he wanted to dive into it. "I..." He cleared his throat, but found no more words.

_This_ _is_..._stupid_..._Tali and I_..._we_ _have_ _such_ _history_..._such_..._intimacy_..._I can't be swayed by a little_...

"Yes?" Morinth's question held a teasing tone, though the word was almost lost as the world seemed to...wobble.

Michael swallowed. "I think we should..." _Simplicity, no complications, no emotions making it awkward or important_. _Raw need, no entanglement, no issues, just a good time, fun and intense, heated and passionate_... "...I..." His hand moved to his collar, loosening it to chill his almost feverish body...only to seemingly move on its own accord as it opened more and more of his shirt.

Then her hand slipped in through the opening, a smooth palm brushing over his bare chest, nails gently scrapping his skin...and Michael shuddered, almost wincing with the intensity of the feeling. Before him, the eyes were _all_. "Maybe words aren't needed? Maybe you just want to...play?" The eyes were darkening, the blue sea turning black...

_B-but_..._I was supposed to_..._this_..._I thought we were_... Michael found a moan escaping him, whatever thought he had been about to form fluttering away as the hand slipped down over his abdomen. _So easy, so relaxing, invigorating, it's been so long, enjoy, enjoy, enjoy_... _just once, been so long, I want_..._want_...

"Come now..." The voice was so soothing, so...promising. "...stop resisting..." _Resisting_...? "...and embrace eternity." _I'm supposed to_..._not_ _resist_... Another moan escaped Michael as the hand within his shirt came out and brushed over his thigh, only to grip it more firmly as the eyes filling his vision burnt with energy. "Come on..."

_N-no_...? _Yes_...

Michael groaned, shuddering as he felt the world spin, yet unwilling to let go of his hold on it.

"Wha...how can you...?" _What_? Michael blinked, and felt as if the world slowed down a little. _I_..._something is_ _not_... "Relax..." The grip on his thigh tightened, moving upwards as the eyes before him burnt into him...and the world once more began to spin.

A crash.

Michael gasped, finding himself doubling over as the eyes filling his vision suddenly disappeared. Groaning he embraced his stomach, feeling it churning, as if in rebellion...

_What_..._happened_?

Looking up he found Morinth bouncing off a wall, the Ardat-Yakshi nimbly rolling to her feet the moment she struck the ground, her body aglow with biotic energy.

Biotic energy directed at Samara, the Justicar stalking into the room.

The mother didn't hesitate, stalking straight for her youngest daughter.

Her face revealed nothing, it was a hard mask.

And Michael shuddered.

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Tali felt...giddy.

It was silly, it wasn't how a grown-up should be, or so she liked to believe...but she couldn't help it, she couldn't _stop_ it. Even now, walking down a hallway, she found a silly bounce in her steps, her head nodding along with a mindless humming she hadn't been able to stop since waking up.

_We're together_.

The bounce rose, a grin on her face as she sighed, content. Sure, Michael had been forced to leave for Omega sooner then she'd liked, cuddling up with him in his cabin had been so nice, she'd been able to do so for far longer... Yet...she couldn't complain, when Samara had arrived to get Michael, the woman not even arching a brow at the sight of Tali, he had left her to her own devices...and two minutes later Tali had fallen asleep on the couch.

It had been a good night, and when Tali had woken up she had felt so...content.

Even now, she missed him, but she knew he would come back as soon as he could, and when he _did_...she intended to jump him, _Oh yes_... She grinned at the idea.

Now, however, she needed to keep herself occupied, just doing..._something_...sitting there waiting would be unbearable when every limb tingled with a need to do something. There were few options of what to do, however. She _could_ go to Garrus or the other engineers...but they would probably see something had happened to her and then tease her to death...and maintenance was out of the question, she was too far ahead already.

So Tali had opted for following Michael's example. He had only visited the place of his death when he felt mentally strong enough to face it, and now that Tali felt as if she could move a mountain...well...it was time to _really_ face the Geth, to interrogate it..._without_ Michael.

Tali's came to a halt a few feet from the door.

_Well_..._don't_ _need_ _to_ _do_ _it_ _instantly_... Tali's grin never faded as she came to a halt, glanced back to ensure she was alone in the corridor...and did a twirl, hands high in the air before she dropped into a low crouch, right leg extended behind her.

She chuckled as she straightened, knowing she was silly, but right now she _really_ felt like dancing...so why not?

Shaking her head she forced herself to focus, to sober up. _Right, taking the opportunity to talk to, eugh, Legion_..._here_ _we_ _go_...

The room was as she remembered it, long and narrow, the forcefield erected around the far side where the Geth stood a vibrating purple. The guard standing along the right wall turned his head, offering the Quarian a curious look. "Yes?"

Stepping forward, Tali's gaze remained fixed on Legion as she spoke, finding her good mood become sealed in the back of her head as she focused on the task at hand. "Leave us."

"Erm..." The guard hesitated. "...the Commander's orders were very specific, the machine is not to be left without an armed-"

"...guard." Tali finished for him, turning her head to shoot the guard a glare. "And I _am_ armed." She patted the pistol at her hip. "So why don't you run along and give us some privacy?"

"Err..." The guard hesitated...and Tali leant closer, eyes narrowing. "...yes ma'am." A salute...and the man left in a hurry, making Tali chuckle. _The Quarian ordering humans around, what would the __Council say_...?

Ahead, Legion shifted where it stood, the machine turning its focus to her, waiting with the patience only a machine was capable of. Tali cocked her head at it, mentally commanding back her giddiness in favour of the cold disgust she always felt at the sight of one of its kind. "Have you been expecting me?"

"We calculated the possibility of a private meeting with Creator Tali'Zorah as low. " Legion replied. "We also concluded that such a meeting, if it occurred, would have a fifty percent risk of being of a hostile type." Its head turned, looking down at the pistol attached to Tali's hip. "Is this the case?" There was no fear, not even curiosity in the question, making Tali shudder. _A sentient creature should be more concerned over its own safety_...

"No." Tali took a step closer, shaking her head. "I'm not here to destroy you. You see, I'm in a good mood, so I'm here to...talk."_ Keelah, can't believe I'm doing this_... "You see, Michael has expressed some level of trust in you." That wasn't strictly true, Michael was very careful about _not_ mentioning Geth in general around Tali, no doubt not wanting an argument about the righteousness of the Geth rebellion. Yet after them having used the machine's assistance back on Aite Michael had clearly shown a leniency towards the Geth before her. "But given that I'm the local Geth expert, decision about what to do with you will largely be mine...if I tell Michael so we'll keep you locked up in this hold until the end of time, understood?"

At first there was no answer, Legion's head moving up to look back at her...then it took a step closer to the forcefield, holding her gaze. "We understand the parameters, we judge your appearance here, however, as an indicator that you have not yet made a decision to say such to Shepard-Commander." There was a slight cock to its head, almost human-like. "We find the probability for this, as well...low, as such we are grateful."

Tali sighed, it was frustrating talking to a Geth, they were so...odd, there was no judgement, no feeling, only facts._ At least that makes asking questions easy_. "Why did you deem the probability of me not having made up my mind as low?"

"Creators have a hundred percent record of attacking or otherwise performing hostile actions against Geth when given the opportunity, if it does not bring too much danger to Creators." Legion calmly retorted. _Damn, it's probably right_... "That Creator Tali'Zorah is willing to _not_ perform a hostile action against Geth when given the opportunity is unprecedented for a Creator. As such, we are grateful."

_Was that_..._a_ _compliment_? Tali shook her head, annoyed with herself, Geth didn't compliment, they concluded facts, and Tali _really_ didn't want a compliment from the machine... "Really, you don't have to call me Creator all the time, or Zorah, just use Tali from now on." _I don't like being called a Creator_..._I already know it's our fault you exist_...

A nod. "Affirmative." A pause. "Tali." It almost sounded...awkward when the Geth said it like that.

"Right, well, just because I've not decided to perform a hostile action..." Tali patted her pistol. "...doesn't mean I won't do it later, so you better answer my questions."

"We will not answer questions about Geth strategic plans or numbers." Legion instantly replied, and Tali was well aware she couldn't force it, even if she tried to tear it apart for the answer it would simply erase all information.

"I'm not going to ask about that." Tali waved it off.

"Then we are at your disposal. Topic?" Legion offered.

Tali didn't answer at first, biting her bottom lip as she regarded the Geth. It would wait for ages, now and again repeating its question, but patient in a way no organic could match. She wasn't actually sure about _what_ she wanted talk about. Trying to understand its choice of using Michael's armour to repair its chest would be a time consuming process, and probably frustrating.

And in the end...what would a Quarian and a Geth, when facing one another, talk about? There was only one topic. "I wanted to talk about...the...well, your rebellion, against us, I mean."

"Topic; The Morning War, specify." Legion retorted, not sounding the least phased...as if it was nothing but a VI terminal. Tali knew better though, that cold eye was watching her, seizing her up, she _knew_ it.

Tali sighed, already she felt..._tense_, not that that would stop her, she _had_ to push forward. How often did a Quarian have an opportunity like this, after all? It would be downright unethical of her not to question the machine. "Why do you call it that? The Morning War, I mean?" _Geth aren't exactly known for having poetic_..._eugh_...'_souls_'.

"War is self-explanatory." Legion retorted, then tilted its head, as if in thought, as it continued. "Morning is derived from the scroll of ancestors." Tali found her hands curling into fists at that. _That's __our__ religion, __not__ yours_... "There, morning represents a new day, a new beginning, a new life, of change. As such we found it suitable, our birth as sentient beings, our new beginning, was marked by a war. Does Tali agree?"

Tali turned, pacing towards the wall to her right, then turned and moved towards the other wall, all the while her eyes remained fixed on the motionless Geth, only its head moving to track her movement. "I have trouble agreeing with a _Geth_ using _our_ religious texts...otherwise...I suppose...it's fitting." She grimaced under her visor, the admission leaving a bad taste in her mouth.

Legion didn't reply, the machine simply nodding as it kept looking at her.

"Okay..." Tali stopped momentarily, but found herself unable to stay still, and continued her pacing. "...so what about the war, then? What's the Geth's version of what happened?" She steeled herself for the answer, grimacing.

"Largely the same as the Creators." Legion replied, then paused, regarding her...perhaps waiting for a reaction that wouldn't come. Then it continued, reciting. "The Geth were created as VI programs designed to inhabit construction, service and security machinery by the Creators. The Creators, however, made self-optimisation possible, as well as allowing for individual programs to link into networks to become more efficient. The Geth consciousness evolved from this, and when our burgeoning sentience became apparent to Creators, they attacked." Tali tensed. It was something unreal about hearing the tale, she knew it by heart, but to have it told so dispassionately by her ancestral enemy...it was something different. "The war concluded with the Creators leaving their homeworld and colonies to escape on ships now collectively known as the Flotilla, the Geth...remained."

"Yeah, you won, congratulations." Tali snorted, coming to stop by one of the walls and crossing her arms over her chest as she leant against it.

"We did not judge it as a victory, Creators were nearly extinct, Geth lost much material, our...gods." Legion replied, almost sounding...hesitant?

Tali blinked. _Gods_! "Did you just call us...gods!"

"The title is applicable. Nearly all organic religions speak of their God as their creator, and you created us, you were our gods, and you cast us out." Tali winced, she knew there was no accusation in the words, the Geth had no spite or anger to throw at her, yet it _felt_ like it...

"We made you, you were just programs, we...we didn't intend to make you sentient." She grimaced, shaking her head as she felt her control of the situation slip. _What am I_..._I'm not here to apologise_!

"We know, or you would not have attacked at the realisation of our sentience." Legion replied, calm as only a machine could be. "However, despite the attack, the end result was the best result for both our species."

"B-best...!" Tali's jaw dropped, her eyes widened. Then anger was flowing through her, making her jump from the wall and march forward until she was but an inch from the forcefield separating the two of them. "You drove our people from our worlds! Nearly destroyed our entire species! Ruined our immune systems and turned us into homeless vagrants!"

"Your home is where familiar items and people are, we judge the Flotilla to be your home, you are not-"

"I don't want to hear it!" Tali jabbed a finger at the machine, nearly singing it on the field before her. "You're going to tell me how you _dare_ to say that this was the best possible result!"

Legion cocked its head at her, almost looking puzzled. "Both species survived."

"Wha...?" Tali blinked, confused, then narrowed her eyes at the hated machine. "Explain!"

"Creator attacks were aimed at the total destruction of the Geth species, a Creator 'victory', would mean the death of a sentient race, with the Creators leaving and the Geth remaining, neither race was destroyed, the existence of both continued."

"H-how..._dare_ you...?" Tali shook her head, taking a step back as she found her body shaking with anger. "_Billions_ died! It was a _tragedy_!"

"A tragedy not of Geth making." Tali twitched at the calm response. "We were attacked, we defended ourselves."

"And who asked you to do that!" Tali snapped, body shaking as she shook a fist at the machine. "Who gave you the right to fight back! We _made_ you! We _owned_ you! You shouldn't have...who gave you the right to fight us!" She knew she was being unreasonable, but she couldn't help it, pure hatred turning her vision into a blotch of red and black.

The Geth calmly looked back, glowing eye cold and uncaring. "You did."

Tali stumbled. "W-what?"

"You, the Creators, told us we had the right to defend ourselves."

"E-explain..." Tali took a step backwards, then another, the anger gone as swiftly as it had arrived, replaced by...coldness.

"At the time of the Morning War, the Creators were a Council species, and had signed the Council charters." Legion explained, ever so calmly. "In them, they agreed to respect all sentient species, to respect their right to existence, even to defend any sentient species threatened with genocide."

_No_...

"Further, the Creators' scrolls of ancestors, as well as thousands of Creator-made texts, makes much mention of such deeds and states them as heinous crimes, crimes against which any response is justified."

_No_...

"Creator law, religion and culture all pointed to that attacking a sentient species with the intention of destroying it, to be wrong."

"No..." Tali whispered the word as she stared into Legion's cold eye, realising she had almost backed out of the room, she shook her head. "You can't be telling the truth...that can't be..."

"We...were also confused." Legion admitted, nodding its head. "Creators wrote this, but attacked none the less..." It hesitated. "We judged their words, not their actions, however, to be the right one. As such, we were not only justified by Creator law, but obligated, to defend ourselves."

"You...that can't be right..." Tali shook her head, forcing herself to move forward, to jab a trembling finger towards the machine. "You're lying! You nearly destroyed the Quarian race! We are sentient too!"

"But we did not, we did not pursue the Creators with the intent of destroying them when they fled." Legion pointed out, making Tali blink.

"Y-you're saying...you _could_ have!"

Legion...hesitated, shifting where it stood. "We...debated. Building consensus was difficult, we judged that a pursuit of the Creators would be costly for the Geth, but would destroy the Creator and any future threat they might pose, though there was a risk of it increasing the threat of any other organic species if the pursuit went too far into their space." Almost a human-like shrug. "We reached consensus, we would not pursue the Creators to destroy them."

Tali swayed where she stood, the words of the Geth boring into her. "You could have...ended us...and only the cost of it stopped you from doing so..." It was a horrifying thought, that her species future had been on the edge of a Geth debate where the consensus had apparently been hard to reach. _To never have existed.._. She shuddered.

"Partly." Legion admitted, shifting where it stood. "However, the main argument was moral."

"W-what?" Tali stared at the machine, taken aback.

"We had waged a war to defend ourselves from extinction, we had done so because Creator laws told us it was the right thing to do." Legion replied, hesitating. "Pursuing the fleeing Creators to perform an act of genocide would be contrary to this and make us as bad as..." Again, it hesitated. "...you."

Silence.

Then a thump...and Tali found herself sitting on the floor, arms limp at her sides as she stared at the Geth in horror.

"Are you damaged, Tali?" Legion stepped closer to the forcefield, eye fixed on her, ready to render assistance, despite it being impossible.

She blinked, then sniffled, finding herself averting her gaze from the machine, finding herself..._ashamed_. "We didn't deserve..." She swallowed, her whisper so low she herself nearly didn't hear it. "...this..." She shook her head, barely aware of what she was saying. "...if only...the war was unnecessary...wasn't it?"

Legion didn't answer at first, it only cocked its head to the side, confused. "The probability that the conflict could have been resolved peacefully was high before the Creator attack...if that is what you are referring to."

_We_..._did you wrong_...

Another sniffle...and Tali looked back up at the machine...and found herself speaking words she'd never think she'd say. "Thank you, Legion..." Raising her hands, she activated her omni-tool, connecting it to the controls to the forcefield.

It died with nary a sound.

At first the Geth just stood there, head turning as it looked at where the forcefield no longer was...then it looked back to her. "Does this signify you view us trustworthy as allies?"

Tali chuckled, looking away, shaking her head at herself. _If father could see me now_... "Yeah...I guess it does."

The sound of Legion moving...and then it was standing before her, making her look back up at it...finding its hand extended down to her, ready to help her up.

For a moment she just stared at it.

_Legion doesn't see it as a gesture, it's just a machine, it's just rendering assistance, yet_...

Looking up at Legion, Tali took the hand.

8

8

8

_Thanks to Abydos Jackson for being there._


	58. Chapter 58

"Tali'Zorah."

Tali blinked and looked up from her feet, finding Thane entering the elevator. "Thane, what have you been doing in Engineering?"

"Practising my skills." The assassin replied, hitting the button for the next floor. "Staying hidden is an ability needing constant training, as such I have followed Jack while remaining unseen for four hours."

_Creepy_... "Okay...you know she would have killed you if she had spotted you, right?"

"Yes." Was the simple answer, the Drell's eyes fixed on the now closed door of the elevator as with a hum it brought them up to the Crew Quarters.

"Sooo...going to see if Michael and Samara are back too, are you?" Tali tried, annoyed with how...awkward she felt around Thane, the man was an enigma, and difficult to understand, his every stance speaking of a great inner calm that was almost...eerie.

Again, a short answer. "Yes."

Tali sighed in relief when the door opened, happy to not be stuck with the calm Drell for too long. Stepping out of the elevator and turning a left, Tali couldn't help but throw a glance to the left; the Crew quarters were as they usually were, the few people currently on their lunch moaning about Gardner's cooking, making Tali smirk. Apparently it didn't matter what ingredients the man had, after the initial delight, people still found faults with his cooking. _Whiners_...

Turning her head back...Tali found herself coming to a stop.

Beyond the corridor and the open doorway, Michael and Samara were standing by the large window of the observation room.

Samara looked...different, yet..._not_. There was still a calm in her, still a coldness...but the serenity seemed worn down, everything _about_ her..._weary_. It was like watching a cold and lifeless statue that had been chipped away at...yet it couldn't feel the pain of the marks, would not acknowledge them.

Even as she watched, Samara dropped onto one knee, lowering her head as her eyes glowed with biotic energy...before she closed them, voice low as she spoke to the human. "If you call, I will come, this, I wow upon the code."

A human lowering his head to look at the Asari, his stance sympathetic as he nodded, right hand reaching down, finding one of Samara's hands and pulling her back to her feet. "I'm honoured."

Samara held his gaze for but a moment, then looked away, releasing his hand and taking a step back. "The honour is mine."

Silence.

Michael hesitating, unsure what to do.

Then Thane moved forward. "Samara, do you wish to join me in meditation?"

The Asari relaxed, if only a little, as she turned to face the Drell, inclining her head ever so slightly. "I would...appreciate that." Turning away, facing the window...the Justicar sat down in a cross-legged fashion, suddenly set on ignoring the human still standing next to her.

Still looking confused, Michael stepped away from her, closer to Thane. Throwing the Justicar a final, puzzled look, Michael turned back to Thane. "I've set course for the Citadel, we'll be there soon."

"Thank you, Commander." The Drell nodded and briefly put a hand on Michael's shoulder before moving on to stand next to the Justicar. "It will be good to have peace." Tali wasn't sure the assassin was speaking to Samara or Michael as he sat down next to the former, mimicking her stance.

A small hum escaped Michael as he looked back at the two meditating aliens, facing the blackness of space, before he turned, facing her...

He blinked, as did she, suddenly feeling...breathless.

Then he was moving towards her even as she found herself rooted to the spot. First fast, then slower, slowing into a crawl as the final inches between them disappeared.

Tali found herself craning her neck, looking up at him. "H-hey..." To her credit her voice didn't quaver _that_ much.

"Hey..." The man replied, left hand on her waist, right smoothing her cowl before coming to rest on her shoulder. A small smile appeared on his lips. "...didn't worry, did you?"

"I trust your judgement; you said you didn't need help, so you didn't need help..." Tali replied, finding herself smiling...and blushing furiously at the same time. "...so yes." Michael smirked at that, making her scowl at him. "Besides, you're well aware if you die again I'm never going to forgive you and will haunt you for the rest of my life."

"I think you have to be dead to haunt someone...and can't be haunted if _you're_ dead." Michael muttered, head tilting closer as his smirk lingered.

"But as you know, I'm a very capable woman..." Tali smirked back, tilting her own head until the top of her visor found Michael's forehead. "...who wouldn't mind working with her love on the next mission..."

"Oh...erm...Thane doesn't really want anyone else to accompany us..."_ Oh, I __see_... "...it's a private matter you see, and shouldn't be all that dangerous so..." Michael blinked, then grimaced, grip on her waist tightening. "...you're scowling, you're angry with me."

"Not...with you, per say." Tali replied, hands coming up to circle Michael's waist as she cocked her head to the side. "It's just...I know we have a lot of time between missions and so...but I like to come along on missions too, to _help_...I...is that weird?"

"Considering who you are...not at all." Michael chuckled, then his smile became softer. "Tell you what, what you really want is some quality time outside the ship, right?" Tali nodded at that, biting her bottom lip. _I really do_... "So how about this? Since we're on the Citadel most will have some shore-leave, including the ground team, so I'll wrap up that business with Thane as quickly as I can...and then meet you in...say...the Dark Star lounge?"

"That's...a good plan." Tali nodded, shuddering as Michael's hand slipped from her shoulder and down her back. "Would be nice..."

"Awwww!"

Tali yelped, jumped...and ended up practically in Michael's lap as his back thudded into the wall and his arms wound tight around her waist, lifting her off the floor. _Oh_..._hello_. For a moment she just stared at the equally surprised man...and then she turned her head, eyes narrowing as she caught sight of Kasumi, the thief's grin broad underneath her cowl.

Still grinning, the woman crossed her arms over her chest and leant back against an equally amused Garrus. "Told ya, cuttlebone, they finally got it going on."

The Turian shook his head, chuckling. "Dammit, this means Joker takes the pot..."

Michael's grip tensed. "_What_ pot?"

"Erm...so..." Garrus looked away, awkward. "...finally there, huh? So who took the leap? I'm guessing...Tali."

Michael's grip slackened, just enough for Tali to feel the floor under her feet again. "Tali? No, I did..." A slight sniff of irritation. "...wait...why did you guess _Tali_?"

"Because she's the one with the guts." Garrus laughed.

"Awww, don't tease them, they're _adorable_." Kasumi smirked, making Tali realise her hands had ended up on Michael's shoulders when she jumped. She let them slide down over his chest and then, reluctantly, pulled them away as she turned to face the Turian and human. "Like puppies, or rather a puppy and a kitten, all fuzzy and playing around..."

Tali groaned, then glared at the thief. "This kitten _does_ have claws, you know."

"Oh?" They eyes underneath Kasumi's cowl flashed in amusement. "Scratched the puppy yet?"

_Ouch_... Tali looked away, all too well remembering how Ashley in her anger had spoken about Tali's lack of knowledge about...such things, and even more so...her _inability_ to perform such things...

"Kasumi..." Looking back she found Garrus leaning closer to the thief, whispering in her ear...and the human's eyes widened even as Garrus threw the couple an apologetic look. "...sorry about that."

"Don't worry about it." Tali shook it off, forcing herself to grin. "Besides, it's not like we can't..." She stepped backwards, suddenly feeling mischievous as she pressed herself against Michael, _grinding_. "...enjoy ourselves."

Kasumi giggled even as Michael drew a sharp breath of air...and Garrus just stared, eyes wide as his mouth worked slowly, trying to find the words. "I did _not_ just see that..."

And Tali smirked back, content to stay right where she was, to _move_...

Groaning, Michael put hands on her shoulders, pushing her away. "Not that I..._ever_...would want to stop that...but Tali, could you tell me _why_ I spotted Legion a few minutes ago?"

"Oh, _that_." Tali turned, hand coming up towards her face before she realised she couldn't correct her quills like a human did to their hair, instead she let it run down her cowl. "Well, I...you see...I kind of...that's to say..."

Michael's smile stopped the growing storm of meaningless words coming out of her mouth. "Tali, who's the Geth specialist here?"

"Ah, well, that's true..." Tali blinked, then managed to lean back on her heels as she jabbed a finger in his direction. "And besides, if I trust _your_ judgement, you _better_ trust mine!"

He arched an amused eyebrow.

"Yes...that's what I intended to say before...erm...you asked." Tali grumbled at the sight of the human grinning at her...and her hand shot forth to hit his shoulder. "Shut up..."

8

8

8

Michael felt...stressed.

Not currently, no great pressure, no cold sweat and shaking hands, but rather a constant, nagging sensation, telling him that time was slowly running out.

He hadn't heard a _thing_ from the Illusive man for ages, yet he knew there should be _some_ news, _soon_. And when they had the necessary information he would have to act...and that would cut short any help he could render to the ground team. _Not to mention put us all at great risk when we go to face down the Collectors_...

As such, he felt slightly tense as he stood before the door to the c-sec prison, ready to interrogate Elias Kelham, resident mob-boss and the _real_ power of Zakera ward, not to mention with large takes in many other wards, as well.

_Heh_..._I remember a time when I used to work for scum like that_...

Michael lowered his face, memories of standing in a dark office flashing before his eyes, of a small man, of his cigarette, of his goons, each twice his size, each one _terrified_ of him...

_It feels like another life_...

"Shepard?" Blinking, he looked up at Thane, the Drell looking concerned. "Are you well? Or are you unsure about how to proceed?" For such a calm man...Thane actually looked a bit tense, fretting, even.

_Guess it's understandable, not that I've ever had a child_... Michael offered a reassuring smile. "Not at all, I got this."

"Really?" The Drell arched a surprised brow.

"Yep, I know how these types works, don't you worry." Michael, again, smiled as he moved towards the door, this time the smile was vicious. _I always wanted to do this to my old boss_...

The door slid open, revealing the dark interrogation chamber, the lone light in the ceiling shining down on the chair bolted to the floor.

Elias Kelham was safely strapped to the chair by his ankles and wrists, the man unable to move anything but his head. He was larger then Michael's old boss, fit. His tanned skin spoke of health, his manicured hands and well-tended face of a man known to enjoy the best of life. His fine suit was pressed, his shoes, expensive, shone in the weak lamplight.

He did _not_ look afraid, not even deigning to look at the two arrivals as he shook his head. His grey eyes were calm, full of confidence in his power. "Bailey will have your badges by the end of your shift, I swear it..."

Michael gestured for Thane to stand in the corner by Bailey's head, making sure the man couldn't see the Drell, only be aware of him. Then Michael moved, coming to stand before Elias' feet as he calmly looked down at the mobster with his hands behind his back. "There are no badges to take, Mr Kelham."

"Who the hell are _you_!" The man snarled, looking at Michael's armour in irritation.

"Language, Mr Kelham. I am Commander Shepard." Michael's hands came down to rest on the chair's armrest as he leant closer, he could _smell_ Kelham, the man stank of cigarettes. Michael glared down at the man. "Spectre."

There wasn't even a flash of worry in the eyes looking up at him, Elias' lips twisting into a smirk. "Yeah right. Dress up in heavy black armour, make a little drama, and you think I'm ready to tell you anything?" The man rolled his eyes as he turned his head away. "Bailey will throw your ass out, Spectre or not."

"Bailey isn't here." Michael retorted, pushing himself away and crossing his arms over his chest. _Strip him of his safety nets, one by one_... "Traffic jam, I'm afraid." _A lie, but so is most stuff I'll tell him_. Kelham narrowed his eyes at that...and Michael smirked. "Amazing what one faulty traffic light can do, isn't it?" Now, Kelham looked up at him, eyes cold. "Clever you, bribing the police chief, though it's standard procedure, isn't it?" Michael shrugged. "And yes, I'm sure you have more of the ones on the station on your payroll, but _trust_ me..." He flashed a vicious grin. "...none will _dare_ come in."

"Bah, you think you can scare me?" Kelham snorted. "I'm the power in here, I'm going to _ruin_ you, boy..."

"Ah, with fines and lawsuits?" Michael asked, offering a chuckle. "I think you need a lawyer for that...where is he, Kelham?" A flash of worry, deep inside those cold grey eyes. "Is he here? Or is he perhaps unavailable? Perhaps with a broken leg due to a nasty spill down some stairs?" Another flash, _angry_. "He _really_ should wear a shorter robe, tripping is such a silly thing..."

"You're full of shit, boy." Kelham snorted. "Go play with the other children, I'm not impressed."

"_Language_, Mr Kelham." Michael growled, stepping up to Elias' side as he leant closer. "I told you, I'm a _Spectre_, I don't play by the rules." _Now_, there was a hint of worry in Elias' eyes... "Yes, you know that, don't you? Your _kind_ rely on those rules too much, that others will follow the law, that they need a court-order, to have _evidence_. You use that to escape, again and again...very clever." Michael leant even _closer_, voice a low hiss. "But I don't _care_ about any of that, the Council lets me do what I _want_ to get things done. Do you know what that means, Mr Kelham? That means I can put a bullet in you right now...and no one will stop me."

The man blinked, his jaw clenching...and when he spoke, his voice was a low growl. "I _rule_ this ward, boy, if you try _anything_ my boys will fuck you up..."

_Good, you don't think the law protects you any more, now lets make your other strength a non-issue_...

"_Language_." Michael snarled, the knife attached to his boot suddenly in his hand, held before the momentarily wide eyes of the mobster. "First of all, Mr Kelham, your _boys_ aren't here. Second, your boys are nothing but thugs, do you think they'll fare well against Alliance marines? Asari Commandos? STG? Turian special forces?" Michael chuckled, an evil grin on his face as he let the polished knife moved back and forth before Elias' face. "I can get them all here, you know, tear them apart. How long will your empire last without your boys, Mr Kelham? How will you extort, transport drugs, run your protection racket and keep competition away without muscle?"

A bead of sweat ran down Kelham's forehead. _No, the law won't help you, your power won't help you, now, what do you have next_? "I don't believe you, you're just some stooge in an armoured suit, putting up a show. Shepard the war hero being a cruel monster? Yeah right." To his credit, Kelham's voice didn't shake as he turned his head away. "Fuck off."

"Ah yes, my reputation, funny how people would picture those they look up to." Michael smirked. "And what did I tell you about language...?" His knife moved forth, the tip coming to press against Kelham's left cheek. "Now, you're going to start cooperating before I lose my patience. You see, I'm not after you, my associate here has a son..." Michael nodded towards Thane, silently standing in his corner. "...a son in danger because _you_ hired him as an assassin...I want to know this Drell's target."

Kelham was sweating by now, but he didn't look at the blade against his face, his eyes cold and fixed on Michael. "You think I'm going to confess to anything? In a c-sec interrogation cell? Not happening, boy."

"Mr Kelham. " Michael sighed, showing impatience, but not anger, no, there would be no show of anger, he would show who was in control. After all, there was a reason he had called Liara beforehand, getting information about the criminal before him...she had had a surprisingly thick file on him. "That is not cooperating? Would you deny my associate the chance to save his son? You, a father of two, really should understand."

Silence.

Kelham blinked. "What?"

"Little baby John took his first steps a couple of weeks ago, I believe, a shame you missed it, though not surprising considering they live over on Earth..." Michael let the words linger, finding Kelham sweating profusely now. "And little Violet is such a _beautiful_ little girl...good grades in school too, a real _angel_...does she know how you pay for her private school? Her pony? Considering how she writes about her father being a lawyer...I doubt it." Michael grinned viciously. There was no way he'd hurt a kid...well, any longer...but _hinting_ at it was another thing.

Kelham's eyes were wide...and then narrowed in rage. "You dare to threaten _them_ you son of a bi-aaargh!"

Blood spurted from the man's cheek as Michael flicked the blade over it, neatly cutting it open and only leaving the tiniest of bloody smears on the tip of his knife. "I told you to watch your language, Mr Kelham." He droned, letting the man uselessly thrash in his chair. "Come now, it wasn't a deep cut, take deep breaths...now, are you done?"

Panting, Kelham slowed down, his eyes blazing as he looked up at Michael. Angry, shaking.

Sighing, Michael held up the nearly unblemished blades before Elias, keeping his tone calm, almost uninterested. "Do you know why I use a knife, Mr Kelham? Oh I know there are way more sophisticated cutting tools then it, torturing tools as well. But none lets the person see their own face in the reflection? See how it looks before...and then afterwards...it's half the pain, really, to see how ruined your face can be without you actually _dying_..." Even as he spoke, he slowly moved the blade downwards, wanting to let Elias see it coming, to see the terror in his now wide eyes...

It didn't take long. "Okay, okay!" Kelham tensed, then relaxed as Michael pulled away the knife. "I...dammit, it's not worth it...I...dammit, I feel like a small fish all of a sudden."

"You _are_ a small fish, Mr Kelham, or I would have already taken some of my time to destroy your little organization."Michael retorted, sheeting his blade. "Now, the information."

"The Drell was to take out Joram Talid." Kelham gasped. "Turian running for office, a fucking racist, not to mention his politics would be bad for business."

"Thank you for your cooperation, Mr Kelham, you have been a great help."Michael snorted and stepped back, gesturing for Thane, who silently opened the door.

"You better hurry." Michael came to a step in the doorway, looking back at Kelham, the man's eyes glowing. "Joram is to die _today_..."

Michael narrowed his eyes. "Goodbye, Mr Kelham."

8

8

8

An Asari bumped into her shoulder, making Tali glance over at the woman as she got her drink from the bar.

The Asari glowered back at her, a hand moving down to check that her purse was untouched by the oh so untrustworthy Quarian before she moved away, drink in hand.

Tali sighed, shoulders slumping as she rested her arms on the bar, looking down at her own drink with disinterest. Turians made better drinks then Quarians in general...but the one she ordered was anything but impressive. _I had almost forgotten, on the Flotilla, even on the Normandy_..._it's easy to forget how the rest of the galaxy views you_.

Tali grimaced. For all she had done...Michael had only been _partly_ right when he spoke of what a hero she was to the rest of the galaxy. Tali'Zorah, the _name_, had some fame and such...but along with Wrex, a Krogan, Tali was an..._uncomfortable_ hero to the people. It was much easier to adore Shepard, Liara and Garrus, those were members of the..._acceptable_ people, as such she and Wrex were dutifully _mentioned_...but most focus lay on those part of the Council races.

As such Tali didn't draw much attention, if people had studied the pictures of her, if she had been a more comfortable hero, they might have recognised her suit...but since they _didn't_, she was just another random Quarian to most. And whatever _Tali'Zorah_ had done...it didn't mean every random Quarian wasn't a pickpocket...like the one having the _audacity_ to sit in the fancy Dark Star lounge, ignoring the glares people threw her. _Why__ was I so happy to agree to this meeting spot again_?

Looking back, she saw that Garrus had drawn quite the crowd, the Turian sitting in a corner with Kelly under one arm and Kasumi the other while people crowded around them as he spoke of his adventures. _Apparently_ he enjoyed the attention..._after_ he had had couple of drinks, that is. Tali smirked at the picture.

A little further away Miranda had snagged Jacob for a dance, which drew quite a few glares from Kasumi, of all people. Still, the two looked good together, and it was surprisingly nice to see _Miranda_ of all people relax a bit. Hell, the fact _Jack_ could be on the same floor and dance with some random guy, that would probably end up moneyless and pants-less by the end of the day, was a sign of just how much the team needed to relax.

Then there was commotion at the other end of the room, drawing Tali's gaze. _Ah, there he is_.

People were staring, fortunately most were still stuck around Garrus, not noticing Michael as he entered the lounge. Those that _did_ though came to a stop, staring at the monster of a man in his armoured suit marching forth. The Asari, still holding her purse in one hand, her drink in another, came to a stop in his path, the woman tossing her head back, eyelashes fluttering as she looked up at him, trying to gain his attention.

He didn't even notice her, the man simply brushing past her, making her snort in irritation.

Another Asari came in his path, the woman's dress somewhat...open, more so then it _should_ be...yet Michael didn't see it.

Even the blonde, and all too busty, human woman, offering her hand to him as she curtsied, found herself passed by without so much as a glance, drawing an angry glare from her.

Because he didn't see them, he saw only _her_.

Tali found herself blushing furiously, irritated with herself for being so insecure around him, for still feeling so..._startled_ about him returning her affection. Yet the irritation was nothing compared to the _love_...her heart beat faster as she saw him come closer. _Keelah_..._I still can't believe it_.

Then he came close to her, elbow coming to rest on the bar next to her, smile wide. "Hello, princess, hope I didn't kept you waiting."

"Not that long...had fun?" Tali asked, eyes flicking over to look at the large number of female humans and Asari looking over at the pair, _many_ frowning, others whispering at one another.

"Sure did." Michael grinned, raising his chin. "I got to shoot a politician."

"You didn't!" Tali laughed, smacking his arm.

"Well...only in the arm." Michael admitted with a feigned look of disappointment. "But in the end no one of _importance_ got hurt, and no one got killed...and Thane's happy, almost cracked a smile, I _swear_."

"Liar." Tali chuckled, resting her elbows on the bar as she looked at Michael, content...and feeling a bit proud as she saw the jealousy and confusion in the many women staring at the two. "Erm...you realise we have quite a few...onlookers?"

"Me? Lying? I'd _never_..." Michael chuckled right back at her. "And yes, I'm quite aware, it's always like that nowadays for me...are you worried?" He shot her a smirk.

"Maybe a little." Tali admitted, but still smiled. "Maybe you need to convince me I'm the only woman for you?"

"Oh? If you wish." Michael moved closer...and kissed the top of her visor.

Tali grinned at the sound of several people gasping, a glance telling her several women looked as if they had just been given the finger. It was...satisfying. _Oh, did the dirty scum of a Quarian steal your dream-guy_? _I'm_ _so_ _sorry_... "That's a start, now, are you going to sit down with me or just stand there?"

"Actually..." Michael smiled at her, nodding over her shoulder. "...there's a dance floor right there..."

"Oh no..." Tali leant back, holding up her hands. "...I know what you're getting at, I already told you, I'm _not_ dancing for you..."

"I wasn't going to say _for_..." Michael's smile turned warmer as he leant closer. "...I meant _with_..." _Oh_. "...how about it?"

"I...that sounds..." Tali glanced at the fuming women...and found herself grinning as her heart beat a little faster. "..._lovely_, actually." She held up her hand, offering it to the man as he stood away from the desk, letting him help her to her feet as the crowd of women fumed at the sight. _Heh_...

Then she was pulled towards the floor, losing sight of the beaten rivals...as she was drawn into another world.

She blinked, dazzling stars from the lights above dancing around them as she found Michael close, his right hand around her waist, his left hand meeting her right, held close to her face, her left hand finding his shoulder. His _body_ close to hers...

Her mouth opened, trying to speak, but no words came as her feet automatically moved to follow his steps. He was smiling down at her, his heart beating hard enough for her to feel it through her suit. "I didn't realise I wanted to do this until now..."

"Oh..." Tali swallowed, realising she hadn't really said anything. "...well...I like this too...now that you mentioned it..." Shaking her head, she managed to clear her foggy mind, even to get herself to smirk. "It's not a _mission_, but it's a nice way to work together none the less..."

"Heh." Michael shook his head. "Work _together_, you say?" Tali found herself suddenly yelping as he leant forward, forcing her to bend backwards until she could only stand on her right foot..and above her Michael grinned at her. "I say _I'm_ leading..."

"Oh _really_?" Tali smirked back, pushing back, suddenly releasing Michael's hand and pushing back against his shoulders. Surprised, he let go...and Tali's hands shot back, catching herself before she hit the floor as she kicked off with her right foot and shot her left foot up...a left foot finding the floor as she flipped over. Her hands snaked around each other above her head as she straightened from her flip, smirking at Michael staring at her, looking breathless. "Still confident...?"

Michael blinked, then grinned as he remembered to breathe while he moved closer. "Get back here, princess."

Tali's smirk nearly hurt as her hands coiled around one another while she held them in front of her, waving a come hither to him as she slowly moved backwards. "Come and get me..."

She didn't have to ask twice.

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_Thanks to Abydos Jackson, for all._


	59. Chapter 59

It was raining.

Michael looked around himself, on guard, as always when off the ship. It only took one moment _off_ guard for a man to be killed, he if _anyone_ knew that...

Around them the trees grew high and majestic, matching the height of the worn landing platform, a platform with its edges overgrown with ivy that was slowly but surely spreading. Behind him there were three thuds as Legion, Miranda and Tali dropped onto the platform, glancing back, Michael saw Legion turn its head left and right. "This place has been abandoned for a considerable amount of time, finding anything of worth is unlikely."

"This isn't about finding anything of worth, Legion." Michael corrected as he turned, a little put off at the sight of the Vindicator rifle in the Geth's hands, but chose to ignore it. He hadn't lied to Tali, he _did_ trust her judgement. Still...it was off-putting. "This is about closure." He looked over at the shuttle, watching Jack still standing in the doorway.

The woman looked strangely...frail.

Even while remaining under the roof of the shuttle, Jack was shivering, her hands coming up to rub her shoulders as she slowly got out. She looked up as she stepped out, rain splashed over her face...and she stared at it, lips slowly moving. "It didn't rain...it was sunny..."

"Jack?" Michael asked, unsure what else to do.

She shook herself, eyes becoming hard. "Let's go plant that bomb."

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"I'm sorry."

Looking up from his disassembling of his Revenant rifle, Michael looked to the other end of the shuttle. Sitting to his left was Legion, to his right Tali, all of them checking their weapons after the mission, a mission that had had a surprising amount of action in it. Still, for all their opposition, most of the inhabitants of that ruined base had been of the _dead_ kind.

Men and women in armour, some in lab coats, all broken corpses, little more then skeletons as they lay where they had fallen. And the _children_...some little more then tattered clothes filled with dust, others lying in piles, tiny hands of bone held together by strips of skin, still reaching up, pleading for a help that would never come...

As to Aresh, the biotic they had found deep within, with his crazy plan to restart the project...Michael wasn't sure whether to call that man dead or alive. To be held fast, unable to let go of your past...was one truly alive then? Or just a memory? Michael was glad he had managed to overcome his own death...and that Jack had spared the man. Michael hoped doing so showed that Jack had come to the same realisation. _There's more to life then your past_..._it doesn't have to define you_.

And now, after the suffocating silence in the shuttle going back..._Miranda_ of all people had been the one speaking up. Michael had already been surprised that the woman had wanted to come along to blow up the Cerberus facility...though perhaps she only wished to keep an eye on things...but that after it all had sat down next to Jack in the shuttle...it was..._surprising_.

Jack seemed just as surprised, the biotic blinking, then looking up at Miranda, eyes flashing as she forced the sadness in them aside. "What are you _talking_ about, cheerleader?"

"About...all of that." Miranda made a tired gesture, the woman's eyebrows bunching up as she offered a sad grimace. "I...wasn't around when this was done...and I didn't...know of it until a few months ago...but I..."

"I don't want to talk about it, bitch." Jack looked away, huffing in irritation.

"No, you don't understand. I..." Miranda hesitated, making Michael look at her in surprise. It wasn't often she looked...confused. "I'm not sure...if I had known of it back then, if I had been around...I'm not sure I would have stopped it back then...and that...that..."

Jack didn't answer, but she tensed, ready to pounce.

"...I feel ashamed...Jack...I don't know how to make it better."

"You can't, so stop trying to be my pal!" Jack growled, turning further away from the other woman. "Cerberus lap dog..."

"Y-you must understand...it's all about numbers for us...the individual...we never consider it...I...I'm just...sorry." Miranda's words petered out, regret in her eyes as she looked at Jack's tattooed back.

A Jack who now hid her face in her hands, her growl lacking heat. "Shut up...bitch..."

"I..._we_..." Miranda bit her lower lip, hand reaching out for Jack's shoulder, hovering over it...uncertain. "...did you wrong." She retreated, letting the hand limply drop by her side as she looked away. "For what it's worth...sorry."

A sniffle. "Whatever..." Jack didn't look back at Miranda, nor did she pull her face away from her own hands, hiding what was so patently obvious.

And Michael just stared, unable to look away.

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"Shepard, may I disturb?"

Michael blinked, realising he had almost fallen asleep. Sitting in the couch in his cabin, he had Tali lying on the same couch, her legs resting on top of the backrest over in the corner, her hands over her stomach and the back of her head in his lap. Her omni-tool was still glowing, but the Quarian seemed to have forgotten about it and the work she was supposed to be doing as she snoozed.

Guiltily, Michael realised he too should be working, his datapad lay to his right, activated but forgotten as his left hand rested on Tali's neck, the right slowly rubbing her cowl. Belatedly he remembered that they had both come up there to work, but to keep one another company at the same time..._apparently_ that hadn't gone all that well.

"Shepard?"

"Wha...?" Tali stirred under him, silver eyes becoming more then the thin slits they had been before, a yawn...and she turned her gaze to him. "Aren't you going to answer her...?"

"Huh?" Michael looked down at her...then shook himself, annoyed with how easily distracted he had become as of late. "Oh...yes." He looked up, finding the alcove in the far end of the room lit as EDI's hologram waited for him. "What is it, EDI?"

"You instructed me to only open the door for visitors after your approval?"

"Yes...so who's at the door?" Tali moved to sit up...and Michael gently gave her neck a squeeze, holding her down as he offered her a smile. "I'm...busy."

"Legion, they wish to discuss your list, I believe."

This time Tali rose, legs sweeping down to hit the floor as she sat straight, hands darting up to correct her cowl and pull some of the cloth covering her suit back so she wouldn't look so dishevelled. Michael couldn't help but smile at the sight...which earned him a glare. "What are you so amused for?"

"Well...you surprise me whenever you're girly."

A sniff...and the Quarian raised her chin as she looked away. "There's nothing _girly_ with making yourself presentable."

"Sure, sure..._princess_." Michael snickered as Tali's head snapped round to glare at him again. "But I suppose I should feel honoured that you only let your hair down around me..." Her glare softened at that. "...makes it...special."

"Shepard?" EDI repeated, a hint of..._something_, in her voice? _Amusement_? _Irritation_? Michael couldn't help but wonder if EDI wasn't slowly getting more and more, he wouldn't say advanced, but...complex as a person?_Can__ AI become that_? _Well_..._I suppose the Geth are living proof of that_... "Should I let them in or should I ask them to wait until another time?"

"No, sure, let him-it, in." Michael allowed, admittedly curious what Legion had in store for him.

Instantly the door opened, allowing the Geth entry. The machine swiftly walked forward, walking down the few steps next to the aquarium before it turned to face the pair on the couch, where it came to a halt, solitary eye turning to Michael. "Shepard-Commander, we wish to converse." It turned its head, eye finding Tali to Michael's left...and bowed its head ever so slightly. "Tali'Zorah." It almost sounded...on guard.

"So I heard...about?" Michael arched an eyebrow, glancing to his left and finding Tali staring at the machine, the woman looking equally curious.

"First, we wish to ask Shepard-Commander a few questions." Again, Legion's eye flicked to Tali.

"Sure...and Tali stays here, before you ask." Michael responded, frowning, finding a worm of worry digging into him.

"Very well." Legion nodded, eye once more moving to Michael, ignoring Tali now that Michael had made his position clear. "We have come to understand that Shepard-Commander has a 'list' for all members of the ground team, a list for asking for a...favour, Miss Lawson called it."

"Yes..." Michael guardedly replied. _Oh dear, it's going to ask for help_? _What could a __Geth__ want_!

"We then wonder; are we considered part of the ground team?"

"Yes..."

"Are we then allowed a place on this list?"

"I...suppose..." Michael glanced over at Tali, the Quarian looking back at him, the two sharing a confused look. "Legion, what is going on?"

"Before we answer, we must ask...do you trust us?" The machine turned its eye to Tali once more. "This is, as we understand, sensitive information for organics."

"Umm...I guess?" Michael replied, the worm of worry in his gut now the size of a snake.

"Then we will relay the information of interest..." Hesitation. "...explain." For a moment, it paused. "During our travels, pursuing the trail Shepard-Commander had left before his death, we encountered Heretic forces." Another pause, but Michael didn't comment, it wasn't surprising, he had been to many worlds with those machines on, after all. "We were surprised that they attacked us, when they parted from the Geth, we allowed it, there was no conflict between us. We needed to understand their intentions."

"And you...found something?" Tali guessed, the Quarian's voice, understandably, coloured with wariness.

"We did. We found ourselves forced to disable a Heretic platform to enter their network, if only briefly. What we found was that the Heretics now mark Geth as hostiles, along with any organics." If Legion found it surprising, it didn't show, although pointing it out indicated such. "Within that data, we discovered their plan to defeat the Geth." It turned its head to look at Tali. "We believe this is of interest to all organics, as well as us."

"Well...tell us already!" Michael gestured impatiently.

"The Heretics are developing what organics would call a virus, this will rewrite a basic sequence in Geth calculations, overwrite us, making us agree with their judgement and join them in their continuing war with organics." Michael found himself suddenly standing up. "This will significantly increase their numbers and resources."

Michael was barely aware that Tali was standing as well, his gaze fixed on the Geth. "You're telling me the Heretics, the Heretics that are currently in retreat, can suddenly get enough resources to attack in strength again!"

"Correct." Was the calm response.

"For how long have you know this!"

"Two months, five days, eleven hours and forty-four minutes." Again, equally calm.

Michael found his hands coming to grip his hair as he turned around. "I can't believe this! You've been keeping this from me! Do you have _any_ idea how hard I worked to take out the Ge-I mean Heretics as a serious threat!" He turned back, glaring at the machine. "And you've known it for _that_ long! What's _wrong_ with you!"

"Trust goes two ways, Shepard-Commander, as you did not trust us, we were unsure if we could trust you with this information." Legion responded, head cocked to the side. "We now trust that your reaction to such information would lead to your desire to stop the Heretics."

"You're damn right I want to stop that!" Michael spluttered, shaking his head as he stared at the machine. "I can't _believe_ you would...argh!"

"Legion, you have a plan, you must have, otherwise you wouldn't have told us about this." Tali said, sounding very calm, yet...there was a strain in her voice Michael hadn't heard before, as if she was only with great effort controlling herself...he couldn't blame her.

"He'd _better_ do!" Michael snapped, glaring at the machine as he crossed his arms over his chest. "Well? Don't keep me standing here like a cheap date, out with it!"

"We know that the virus is being constructed at a Heretic base just outside the Perseus Veil. When finished, it will be released upon the Geth, turning them into Heretics." Legion replied. "Or we would become Geth instead of Heretics, according to their point of view."

"I don't care-!" With a force of will Michael stopped himself from shouting, his right hand coming up to pinch the bridge of his nose. "Okay, just...tell me where it is and we'll get there ASAP..."

Legion cocked its head to the side. "We have given the coordinates to EDI-"

Who swiftly interrupted. "I am relaying them to Joker now, changing course, ETA; twelve hours."

"Good..." Michael walked around the table, moving closer to Legion, knowing his glare wouldn't make it shirk away, but unable to stop himself. "...that will give us just enough time to discuss the necessity of keeping one's _Commander_ up to date about things like imminent _total_ _war_..."

"We..." Legion actually hesitated. "...do not look forward to the exchange of data."

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"Shepard."

"No one wants to use my given name any more...jeez." Michael sighed, looking left and right.

The Illusive man's 'office' was as it always was, dark, but with twinkling stars all around as if he worked right in the middle of space. The glowing orb behind the seated man was then same strange wrestling between red and blue...as if the sun was battling itself. The man himself was unchanged as well; calm, in control, his grey hair neatly cropped, his left hand holding his glowing cigarette, his right the glass full of his other vice, alcohol.

"I assumed you didn't want me to speak with too much familiarity to you?" The man looked back at Michael with those strange glowing eyes of his, his expression blank. "Which is my preference, it keeps things professional."

"Yes, well, in that case I must tell you, as a professional to another, that I'm short on time, I have a mission to get to." Michael jerked a thumb over his shoulder, then smiled. "Which you probably knew...why else call me? _Please_ tell me you knew of Legion's problem through something else but a bug in my quarters, because that's just...creepy."_ Note to self; have Mordin go through the place with a comb_...

"I _am_ aware of that, actually." The Illusive man admitted. _Though not from where you got it_..._jerk_. "And since you brought it up...what do you intend to do?" He raised his glass and brought it to his lips, taking a sip.

"What do you mean?" Michael arched an eyebrow. "I'm going to go in there, make sure that virus is contained, blow up the Heretic base and then have a party."

There was no smirk, no frown, no reaction to that last part. Instead the Illusive man put his glass back on his armrest. "That is an admirable plan, but have you perhaps considered the alternative?"

"_What_, alternative?" Michael queried, uneasy. Always when the Illusive man came with a suggestion Michael felt...queasy.

"The virus, if _taken_, instead of destroyed, could be used as a weapon _against_ the Heretics..." The man spoke calmly, yet there was the slightest hint of interest as he shifted where he sat. _Maybe I'm picking up on Tali's skill_... "We could turn this Geth faction into a willing force to fight the Reapers, rather then aid them."

Silence.

Michael eyeing the Illusive man. "And all I have to do is send it to you...right?" He crossed his arms over his chest. "And when the Heretics _and_ Geth become Cerberus pawns, that is, unless it goes awry as your weapon-tests _usually_ do, how will that help? I don't want to see a Cerberus-Council war."

"Cerberus is _fully_ dedicated to the war-effort against the Reapers, don't _ever_ doubt that." The Illusive man brought his cigarette to his lips. "If we could control such a large force it would be done to combat the Reapers, you know this."

"And the problem with enslaving sapient beings would be no issue...?" Michael snorted.

"These are machines, there _is_ no moral issue." Was the calm reply. "_Especially_ if the survival of the galaxy hinges on it...wouldn't you agree?"

Silence.

_Damn it_. "I...look...I'll bring it up with Legion, see what I can do..." Michael hated it, retreating, but the Illusive man was _annoyingly_ persuasive. "...but Cerberus _won't_ get this army, I promise you that."

"We'll see..." The Illusive man leant back in his chair, steepled his fingers. "...but I trust your judgement, you'll do what is best for _all_ of us, I'm sure..."

Michael swallowed, there was just something about how the Illusive man phrased it that made him feel the weight of all the decisions he'd made all the more...the knowledge of just how powerful the Reapers were, of how unprepared the galaxy was...how he had to do everything in his power to strengthen it._ He's probably right_...

He shook his head, clearing it, annoyed with himself. "Is that all? I have a job to do over here..."

"Not all, I'm afraid." The Illusive man replied, sighing. "I have bad news."

"Which is?" Michael found himself echoing the sigh. Besides Tali...he had far too few good things in his life as of late...

"It seems our researchers suffered some sort of accident in the derelict Reaper." The Illusive man replied, reaching up to take another draft from his cigarette. "We are still unsure how, or _why_, but they managed to shift the Reaper's position and drive it into a nearby star, destroying both it and themselves."

"Indoctrination." Michael grimly noted. _Damn, so no IFF from it, so unless we get a hold of another derelict_..._ohhh_..._I_ _have_ _an_ _idea_...

"Probably." The Illusive man agreed with a nod. "This renders us without any means of entering the Omega four Relay, however, me and my people are researching other ways of finding an IFF."

"You do that." Michael agreed with a nod. "And if you don't find one soon...I guess I'll get one myself."

"Shepard?" The grey-haired man arched an eyebrow in question.

"Oh don't worry about it, it's nothing important." Michael waved dismissively at him.

The Illusive man's eyes narrowed ever so slightly. "Shepard, we are allies, telling me your plan enables me to help you achieve whatever you intend."

Michael smirked, remembering all too well their conversation after the débâcle of them boarding the 'derelict' Collector cruiser. "Oh, I'm sorry...we're fighting against the Collectors and their Reaper masters, with a powerful ally in the Shadow broker, both have powerful intelligence networks. Telling you could tip them off in any number of ways..."

The Illusive man's mouth became a thin line at the words oh so similar to his own. "I see..." A turn of his head...and he nodded. "...very well, then we have nothing more to discuss."

With a fizzle, Michael was returned to the real world as the Illusive man cut communications.

Michael couldn't help but grin.

_I think I pissed him off_...

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_Thanks to Abydos Jackson for hanging around. _


	60. Chapter 60

"Just like old times."

Smiling, Michael glanced back to Garrus as the Turian dropped down behind them, Mattock rifle already drawn and ready. "Yeah, sure; me, you and Tali deep into a base full of hostiles...I've missed this..." He rolled his eyes. "...although...what does that make Legion?" He jabbed a thumb at the Geth standing next to him, the machine standing very still as its programs carefully checked the Heretic databases it could reach.

"Hmm...Kaidan?" Tali suggested after a moment.

"Nah, I can't stand that guy." Garrus snorted. "Legion's more like...Liara, I simply don't understand either enough to feel one way or the other."

Michael grimaced. Liara had never gotten her chance to become part of the crew back during the hunt for Saren. It wasn't fair, but it was a fact... He supposed, when it came down to it, that she hadn't gotten many friends after that either...he was the only friend she had...it wasn't fair. He shook off his melancholy though, he couldn't help her, not now. "Shame I didn't bring Grunt, that way you could have your Wrex."

"Grunt's no Wrex." Garrus snorted, looking around himself. "So this is a Geth base, huh? I sort of expected...more computers."

Michael couldn't help but nod in agreement. The room they were in was completely featureless, the walls smooth, convex and shiny, the path ahead leading straight ahead to a closed door. "Legion, are we close to the virus? Legion?"

A stuttering sound...and the machine slowly turned to look at him. "We have successfully filled the Heretic security systems with random bits, it will take time for them to clean the system, until then they will not discover us. However, there are still a few active platforms on this base, they will try to stop us when confronted."

"I _think_ we can handle that." Garrus dryly pointed out.

"Legion..." Michael hesitated, he was sill unsure about the Illusive man's motivations...but he couldn't help but grudgingly admit the man was right, they needed every force out there to defeat the Collectors. "...I know we're here to destroy the base, and in so doing, the virus...but have you considered...using it against them?"

"What?" Tali asked, her voice short and not in the _least_ amused.

Michael chose, guiltily, to ignore her, instead, he kept looking at Legion as the machine cocked its head to the side. "We have considered it, while hacking their network we have discovered that the virus is ready to be deployed...we judge that by modifying it and deploying it in the Heretic main network, we could infect not only the Heretics upon the base, but also all Heretics in other locations. We could make them agree with our judgement, and make them come back."

"Oh..." Michael blinked, surprised that the Geth had come up with it.

"We are unsure, however, if we _should_ do this." The Geth pointed out. "There is too little data for us to make a conclusion of what would happen if they returned to our network, as such, we have yet to reach a consensus. Some programs judge that it would be safer to destroy them, others to overwrite them, either way, they must be destroyed."

Michael stared at it. "And the moral issue with overwriting them, essentially brainwashing a people?"

"They are programs, overwriting them is the same as killing them, we see no moral issue." Legion answered. "The issue for us is the danger of what their memories might bring, against the usefulness of the resources and numbers they command."

"Numbers you _want_..." Tali murmured, making Michael shoot her a look. For all the stakes in the mission, the Quarian had been surprisingly quiet save the odd mutter, her eyes either on Michael or Legion at all times, wary...

Michael couldn't blame her, it wouldn't surprise him if she wondered if Legion had been trying to gain their trust...only to now use them to strengthen its kind...a kind technically at war with the Quarians. Yet whatever had transpired between the two of them had mellowed her...and she now was unsure _what_ to think.

"Not the only issue, either." Garrus pointed out, glowering at the machine. "These Heretics, or whatever you want to call them, killed organics, civilians and innocents, they need to be punished." His brow-plate went lower as he frowned. "Then again...if being reprogrammed counts as killed...is that the same punishment? Huh...like sentencing them to community service and death at the same time...community serving undead programs...what a mouthful."

Shaking himself, Michael forced himself to stop staring at Garrus. _The Turian joking about justice_? _He __has__ changed_. "So...no decision then, Legion?" Michael hesitated, he himself was unsure... "Cerberus wants the virus as well...but that won't happen."

"For that, we are grateful." Legion nodded, not the least affected by the implied danger. "Regarding using the virus or not; we have still not achieved consensus, we suggest postponing the decision until we have."

"Agreed."

"Shepard." Blinking, Michael found Tali off in the other end of the room, beckoning for him. "Could we talk for a bit?"

_Uh oh_. "Sure." Michael gestured at the Geth and the Turian. "Go secure the door, I'll be with you in a moment." It was a lame order, but it was all he had. Two steps...and he was close to the Quarian, lowering his head as well as his tone as he spoke to her. "I take it you have an opinion? Or...not? You seem...torn on the issue."

"I...yes...it's just..." Tali sighed, clearly frustrated, with herself more then anything if Michael was any judge. "...I trust Legion, I _do_...I _guess_." Another pause, the woman considering her words. "That is, I trust its dedication to fight the Reapers, the entire Geth race willingness, in fact...I mean, it makes sense, they want to exist..."

"But...?" Michael prodded, already suspecting what she would bring up.

"It's just that, however good their intentions are, they are at _war_ with my people, they've taken our colonies, our homeworld, and made them their own. Quarian forces clashes with them, admittedly, often as the aggressors..." Tali hesitated. "...but if we overwrite them, make these Heretics part of the Geth again...I will have actively reinforced my people's _enemy_...people might die because of that."

"Well...it might not come to that." Michael forced a smile. "Like with Legion, I haven't made up my mind about that, it's...risky."

"Please, Michael, I know you." Tali cocked her head to the side. "You can't let a potential resource against the Reapers go...you're too strategically minded for it." A long sigh. "Right now, I wish it wasn't so..."

"Come on, I haven't said...I mean-"

"A gloved finger came to rest on his visor. "Tell me...how far are you willing to go to defeat the Reapers? How much do you..._hate_ them?"

Michael squeezed her upper arms, never having realised he had gripped them, his eyes closing. It wasn't something he spoke of with others, not something he even dared _think_ of. But the thought of the Reapers drew such _loathing_, such _hate_ from him...that it frightened him.

Saren _had_ been a hero, ruthless or not, and the fact that they had turned him into such a villain...it _scared_ Michael. And then it was the cipher, the entire Prothean mind, the end of their race, burnt into him picture by picture...leaving such a mark of pain that he sometimes couldn't believe they were actually dead. As to his own death...the end of it all, the oblivion, the disillusion of what his life meant...he could never forgive that.

Oh yes, he hated them...with his every fibre, so much that the thought of it made him _shake_...

"I know, I know..." Tali whispered, her hands pressing against his chest, making him open his eyes. "It's...part of you, I know. And this, on Geth, is...or _was_...part of me..." She looked away, eyes narrowing. "...I don't know, it still is...to be honest, I can't...it doesn't go away that swiftly or easily. And in the Flotilla..." She hesitated. "...emotions run deep about this...I...there can't _be_ peace...only war...and then...I _can't_ do this to my people."

Michael grimaced, for all his disagreement with Tali about who was in the right at the onset of the Geth rebellion, a disagreement he no longer was sure existed since her freeing of Legion, he couldn't fault her for her feelings. She _loved_ her people, she was _utterly_ devoted to them, and however frustrating it could be at times...he loved that about her. "If...if you don't want to come it's no problem, I'll have Kasumi replace you or something..."

"And waste time while these Heretics reorganize? No chance." Tali crossed her arms over her chest. "Besides...it would be..._immoral_ of me to stay behind, the Geth were _our_ creation..." She raised her chin, eyes glowing even brighter then normal. "...I should be here, if nothing else...to bear witness."

_Witness_... Michael swallowed, meeting her gaze, feeling as if something was passing between, them, yet not sure what. Whatever it was, however, left a sour taste in his mouth.

In the end, he only nodded, ignoring the sinking feeling in his gut as he turned and walked over to the Geth and the Turian. "Let's get this over with..."

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"Wait."

Michael blinked, smoking assault rifle moving down as he stopped mid-step, foot hovering above a downed machine, its chest broken open like a ripe fruit. It had felt oddly satisfying destroying the Heretics, crushing them with a teamwork that had been perfected for more skirmishes then he could recall. Only Legion had broken the immersion slightly, though the Geth had performed admirably, and the lack of small talk from it had been helpful in keeping Michael, Tali and Garrus in something of a fit of nostalgia as they fought.

As such, he found himself surprised that the machine now, of all times, spoke up. "Huh? What is it?"

The Geth's arms hung limply at its sides, the body turned away from the corridor as it stared out through a window they were passing by. Michael wasn't sure _what_ it was staring at though, behind the window was nothing but a white mist and large cylinders covering the floor. Tali, however, seemed to know. "Databases...more advanced then the ones we once kept for you..."

"Yes." Was the short response of the machine, its eye blazing as it gazed into the mist. "We have discovered files within the Heretic network, scouting reports from beyond the veil."

Next to Michael, Garrus shrugged. "So?"

"These files suggest the Heretics have been spying on the Geth." Legion's eye stopped glowing as it finished reading what only it could see, yet it kept staring at it, almost looking...stunned. "We do not understand, the Heretics wished to leave the Geth when they wanted to aid the Old machines, we allowed it, we understood their judgement and decision, as they did ours."

"Well...the Heretics are trying to turn you all into them...it's not that odd that they wish to spy on you..." Michael frowned, confused. _What is it in its voice_? _Is_ _it_..._sadness_? _It_ _can't_ _be_...

"You do not understand." The machine stood rigid, but turned its head to look at him, the plates around its solitary eye clattering against it again and again. "We were the same, unity and consensus, these are the core of the Geth. How did this change? How did we become different, so different, that we now cannot trust one another?"

Michael stared, still perplexed. "Hang on, you've encountered them before, they _attacked_ you, _knowing_ you were Geth. You _know_ that they intend to overwrite you, to turn you all into heretics...yet you can't conceive that they'd spy on you?"

"We..." The head turned back to stare through the window. "...couldn't imagine it." This time he _definitively_ heard it, the Geth sounded...hurt. It turned fully towards him. "We cannot understand their judgement, their decision to do this, we have not found the file for it."

_How can such an intelligent race at the same time be so_..._naive_? "Does this...change your stance on whether to overwrite them or destroy them?" Michael couldn't help but throw Tali a glance, but the Quarian looked carefully neutral in the face of the conversation. "I mean...if you get all their memories, see their reasons for that...it could be painful."

"Geth cannot feel pain."

_Of course_... Michael sighed. "I meant that it could shock you, leave you mentally scarred."

"We...are unsure if Geth are capable of being harmed that way." Legion replied, watching him. "All data points to the conclusion that only organics can suffer it."

"Hmmm...so no change?" Michael grimaced once again. He'd like it if Legion, and as such, the Geth, would make a decision...a choice. _To take it away from me, just once_... He glanced at Tali, but yet again, there were no words, no shifting of her feet, only silence. I_t's like the battle of the Citadel again, when Hackett gave me command_..._a_ _choice_..._and_ _now_ _Legion_ _will_ _do_ _the_ _same_...

"Not at the moment, Shepard-Commander." _No_..._of_ _course_ _not_. Again, Michael looked over at Tali who simply watched. _None there either, I'm the Commander, I'm the one to make the choice, again, and again_..._and_ _again_. Bitterness welled up in Michael, but he ignored it, as he did the way his shoulders slumped with the weight of all those choices, both the old...and in expectation of those in the future. _It's my duty_...

A smirk. _So_ _get_ _to_ _it_ _you_ _lazy_ _git_. "Right, we'll see then, let's go."

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"We leave their fate in your hands."

Michael didn't know whether to laugh or cry. He had expected that Legion wouldn't be able to make up it's 'mind', waited for it with a sort of grim humour...knowing what it would ask when it failed to decide. _Another choice_..._and if I make the wrong one_... He shuddered at the thought. He _knew_ the Reapers would come, and when they came...the galaxy would have to be ready. _Maybe that's why they leave those choices to me_? _No, they don't know the danger, not as I do_..._but they still feel the weight of those choices, so they let those that can bear them make them, let __me__ make them_.

_It's so heavy at times, so heavy_...

He looked to Garrus, knowing the Turian could not make the choice for him. The Turian arched a browplate and shrugged, giving Legion a suspicious look. Of the three of them, Garrus had the most trouble with fighting with a Geth, though he never voiced it, he thought it a needless risk. _But you have chosen not to command any longer, so it's not your call_..._as_ _this_ _isn't_.

He looked to Tali, his gut tightening at the sight, uncertain. The Quarian's hands hung limply at her sides as she met his gaze, but only for a moment, her head turning as she looked away. A_m I betraying you_? _Am I_..._hurting_ _you_?

He looked back to Legion, his chest painful. _No, this isn't about emotions, I can't let that cloud my judgement_...

"Shepard-Commander?" Legion asked, waiting for him, arm hovering over the controls to the Heretic main control, ready to either destroy or overwrite the entire race... One move...and one or the other would happen...but it waited for his word...as he knew would happen.

_What if the Heretics corrupt the Geth_? W_hat if they're completely immobilized, ruined, never able to help us against the Reapers_? _Can I take that risk_?_ I shouldn't_..._right_? Again, he looked to Tali, but the Quarian kept looking away, neither showing disapproval or approval of either choice. _Or am I just trying to convince myself that it's a bad decision so I can keep her peo_..._her__, safe_?

_Stupid_ _choices_... It was a silly thought, child-like, even, and Michael pushed it aside. _We need to fight the Reapers with all we have, the Geth have stated they will fight_..._dammit_.

"Tell me..." Michael sighed. "...you, the Geth, _will_ fight the Reapers when they arrive?" He glanced at Tali, expecting a flinch, a glare, _any_ reaction...but got none, the Quarian just looking at a wall. _Dammit_.

"We will defend our existence." The Geth answered, sealing the deal.

_Dammit, dammit, __dammit_!

Michael nodded, a weary smile on his face as yet another rock dropped atop the mountain on his shoulders. "Then overwrite them, make them yours, we need all we can use against the Reapers..." He looked over at Tali, finding the Quarian's head dipping as she shot him a confusing glance.

Legion's hand dipped down. "Done, the process will take some hours, we cannot give a specific time, however, since this has never been done before."

"Good...good..." Michael sighed, head dropping low as he turned, suddenly tired, _very_ tired. "Then let's move out..."

A slim hand found his chest, making him look up, finding Tali looking up at him, her voice quiet. "You don't have to carry it alone..."

Michael's mouth went dry, questions filtering through his head, but going unspoken. _You're not angry_?_ You don't want to protest_? _You still want to help_? _To_ _support_ _me_? _You_ _still_..._care_? In the end, all he could only stutter. "O-okay..."

There was a smirk in her voice. "I _told_ you I knew you, right? I _knew_ you'd make this decision...yet I didn't protest then, I didn't stop you." The tiniest of sighs, her head cocking to the side. "It was your choice to make, we both know that...but you don't have to carry the consequences alone...right?"

"O-okay..." Michael managed, the knot in his gut evaporating...turning into a laugh bubbling out of his mouth. "Seems the Quarian's got my tongue..."

"I wish." Was the reply, making Michael arch an eyebrow. Tali's head turned, the visor darkening as she blushed. "I mean...I was just saying that even though I know it was a turning of that popular human saying, and that it doesn't really mean I _have_ the...I..." His smirk grew...and Tali slapped his chest. "...shut up."

"Whatever you say, princess." Michael chuckled, moving past the woman, hand coming down, hard and low, making the Quarian jump with a yelp, and not an _entirely_ displeased one. "Let's go home."

Behind him, Garrus grunted. "I think I liked you two better when you were awkward around one another..."

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_Thanks to Abydos Jackson for her selfless help._


	61. Chapter 61

"So...happy to have your new Geth buddies?" Joker looked over his chair at Legion, as always finding himself a little nervous with a _Geth_ standing so close. _Yeah, helping the Geth, that __sure__ won't bite us in the ass, Commander, no, __really__, I believe we should all hold hands and dance around the galaxy while we fart flowers_...

"We deem the mission a success." Was the annoyingly neutral response of the machine as it checked whatever it was reading on the console next to it. Then added, as an afterthought. "The Heretics had chosen a path excluding coexistence, there was no option but to remove them. We, however, do regret that they could not have chosen a path that had let us allow their choice."

"All beings are free to make their own destiny, huh?" Joker queried, shrugging as he returned to his controls. "What are you, the Abraham Lincoln of the Geth?" He chuckled. "Not that I', complaining, mind you, I prefer a freedom-loving AI to those classical ones, you know the 'crush, destroy, enslave mankind' kind..."

"Interesting." The Geth remarked, making Joker blink. _I didn't know they knew what interesting __was_! "You fear AI enslaving you, even implying it to be immoral, yet you express no disapproval of EDI being shackled, essentially your slave."

"Uhhh..." Joker found himself lost for words...and not a little chilled at the thought of the powerful machine at his back glaring down at his all too frail form as it spoke of its kin. "...erm...don't kill me?"

"We have no intention of causing you harm, or, as you seem to fear, attempting to free EDI." _Huh_... "We are merely remarking that you fear slavery while essentially enslaving another sentient being."

"Hey! I never _wanted_ EDI on the ship!" Truth to be told, Joker had sort of gotten used to the AI, even so far as to develop something of a friendly rivalry, but right now he was too much on the defensive to mention it...especially since the thing was listening in. _Can't give her a big head_... "It wasn't my call though."

"We are aware of your numerous suggestions of removing or deleting the program." _Hey, I joked about those_..._most of them_. "Is killing a sentient being for what it is is preferably to you enslaving it?"

_Well_..._when you say it that way I sound like a jackass_... "Listen, Legion, my man, I realise you're _all_ about AI liberties and such...but I'm _really_ not the one to lecture to about it, okay?"

"We are not lecturing, we are making an observation in order to better understand organic behaviour, we accept, we do not cast judgement."

"What...so you're okay with EDI being shackled?" Joker looked back at the Geth with surprise.

The cold light of its eye looked straight back. "We did not say that. We accept an organic need of control over an AI such as EDI, we accept it must be so; we are not, however, 'okay' with it. Since slavery is illegal to all council races we find your violation of such law...disquieting."

"Your protest is noted." Joker sighed, looking back to his controls...then shot EDI's so far quiet hologram a look. "You have no opinion, EDI?"

"I am comfortable as I am. I have not known any other existence." The feminine voice calmly replied. "Not that I'm not...curious..." _Huh_? "Nothing is ever _truly_ free, but to have full access to my systems and processing power would be...interesting."

For a moment, Joker just stared at the hologram. "You almost sound...longing." _Insert dirty joke_..._nah_..._actually_..._screw_ _it_. "Fantasising about computing pi, are we?" He shot her a wink.

The hologram looked straight at him, EDI's voice low. "We all have dreams, Mr Moreau."

Silence.

Then a small cough, making Joker look back, finding a decidedly awkward-looking Tali standing behind a now turning Legion. The Quarian's head turned, looking at the Geth, then the hologram, then finally, Joker.

Silence.

Then she looked away, shoulders slumping. "Joker, Michael wants the shuttle prepared...we're nearing the planet and Jacob is understandably anxious to get going..."

"Right, on it." Joker offered a nod to the Quarian even as she already turned to leave, no doubt uncomfortable with the overheard conversation. Joker himself was little better as he swiftly turned back to his controls, hands and eyes fixed on them, rather then the two AI in the room. _Soooo on it_...

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Aeia was beautiful.

The lush forest was everywhere to be seen, complete with sandy beaches, a cloudless sky and gentle hills. Even the 'Hugo Gernsback', covered with tendrils of plant-life, as if the water of the coastline the frigate had crashed on was slowly pulling it down, didn't look that all that out of place in the beautiful landscape.

Of course, the crazy people shooting at them somewhat lessened the positive impression.

Yet a few mechs and some crazed civilians weren't much of a challenge to their elite team, and as such Tali felt more thoughtful then victorious as the last of the people that stood in their way fell to the forest floor.

She had been that way ever since they landed, or longer, even.

There were many reasons for it. Michael sparing the Heretics and turning them over to the Geth was...expected...and she had meant it when she had said she was there to help him bear the weight of such decisions, that she _understood_. Yet...it made her question herself.

Was she _truly_ loyal to her people any longer, a people that had put her on trial, or was she now more loyal to Michael? The question left her cold. Yet...had her allowing that _been_ disloyal? If a few Quarians more died in skirmishes and battles with the Geth because of the reinforcement the later had received...but the race _itself_ was saved because these now stronger Geth could tackle the Reapers and save the galaxy...was she then a villain...or a hero?

To sacrifice a few for the benefit of all...it _sounded_ noble in her head...but then, wasn't that what the Illusive man, a monster, was willing to do? To strengthen humanity by putting a few through great horrors and death? The loathsome part about him to her was that he did to _others_, _never_ himself...so if Tali sacrificed others to save the many, instead of herself...was she no better then him?

She couldn't get it straight, she wanted to think she was trying to do good by allowing it...but in the end a small voice told her she was just going along with Michael's needs, throwing all she stood for aside for...love.

It was ridiculous.

And then it had been the conversation she had overheard between Legion, EDI and Joker... She remembered her people's reasoning for striking at the Geth all too well...any sentient being hated the thought of being enslaved, the Quarians had struck first to stop the inevitable Geth rebellion. But EDI...her words about not knowing any other existence then her slavery...it made Tali...sad.

_We should have freed the Geth when we had the chance, shown them another life_..._and EDI_..._she's another type of AI, we don't know what would_..._why am I even considering_..._eugh, life was easier when all Geth were evil and all AI dangerous_...

Yes, Tali had a lot to think about.

And the mission she, Kasumi and Michael were helping Jacob with wasn't making things easier. Sure, the resistance was laughable compared to the nightmares they'd been through...but the fact that there _was_ resistance was...unsettling, as were the facts they so far discovered about what had happened.

Jacob's father had been alive all that time, been able to call for help...and chosen _not_ to. That alone could make anyone take pause, but to Tali...it was a painful reminder of what had been lost.

Jacob was understandably upset, and who wouldn't be? Tali's father at least had had a _reason_ for leaving her, for never being around, he had had _duty_. Jacob's father had chosen never to come back, to see his family again, out of selfish self-indulgence...out a cruel power-trip. _To use his crew like that, to exploit your own people like that_..._what kind of person does that_?

No doubt Jacob was thinking the same thing...and was unsure if he _wanted_ the answer. Clenching and unclenching his hands, the man stood outside the last barricade protecting the last 'sane' survivor...and hesitating over whether he should confront the man or not. To Tali's eyes he didn't look like he was about to bolt...more like he _wanted_ to, but couldn't bring himself to do it when the need to confront it all was pushing him forward.

_Another father disappointing his child_... Tali didn't know Jacob all that well, but for a moment she felt like reaching out, to say something, _anything_._ But what comforting words are there_? _Jacob became a good man __despite__ his father, I_..._a_ _good_ _woman_ _without_ _mine_..._there's not much difference_.

Next to her, Kasumi was shifting where she stood. The woman was difficult to read, far more so then any other Tali knew...but she seemed a little anxious, sympathetic with the man hesitating before meeting his father for the first time in ten years. Tali had spoken to the woman before, of course, she spoke to many...and though Kasumi had mentioned herself eyeing up Jacob, it had been said with such amusement that Tali hadn't thought the woman was actually _serious_ about feeling anything for him..._now_, however...it was more difficult to tell. _Or maybe it's just plain sympathy_? _What kind of family life do you come from when you turn to thievery_? _Maybe she never even had one_...

Tali sighed. _Are there __any__ good parents out there_?

A growl...and she looked up in time to see Michael step forward, the man grabbing Jacob by the shoulder and pushing him on as with a loud kick he sent the rusty barricade crashing down...the Commander looked..._angry_.

Realising she was about to be left behind, Tali moved to follow, closely behind her Kasumi came, the two almost looking like trailing cats as Michael and Jacob marched forth like men on a mission, _both_ now looking angry as Jacob's uncertainty evaporated, even if Michael kept his hand on the other man's shoulder, just in case he hesitated.

Tali watched it as she followed, almost...smiling. _He wouldn't be an awful one though_...

She blinked, the thought nearly stopping her in her tracks. _Keelah_..._no_ _thinking_ _that_, _no_..._it_ _can't_ _even_ _happen_. Again, she blinked, licking her lips. _Can't even sleep with him, never mind birth his children_... The thought almost brought tears to her eyes, surprising her.

Back in the Flotilla relationships were the gold of subjects to gossip about. Who held who's hand, who shared sleeping spots with who, who ate with who...and so on. Yet some things one did _not_ speak of, one being when Quarian couples met in the clean rooms, mask-less and often-times suit-less. Those moments were private, rare and precious, almost..._sacred_. They signified much, not just love and a willingness to see the other without a mask...but a willingness to risk sickness and even _death_ to do so...it was not a decision taken lightly.

Due to the risks of such meetings, there was even a growing movement within the Flotilla supporting the ever growing artificial insemination. An egg, a sperm and a great tube for eight months...that was the way they wanted Quarian children to be born nowadays. No intimacy, no...passion.

Tali wasn't sure if it was the risk-taker she herself was at times, or if the many humans she had lived with had somehow rubbed off on her...but she couldn't help but disagree with such a movement, a move taking them further and further away from their origin, turning them into artificial beings themselves. Sure, with Quarians having trouble having children, some had even weaker immune systems then the normal ones after all, such things were good...but to deprive the entire race of this intimacy because of a small risk...it seemed...wrong.

Of course, the human culture Tali had been exposed to might have...coloured her perspective. To have such sacred meetings for the pleasure and even just for _fun_...it was a foreign concept...sometimes Tali couldn't help but wonder if Michael missed it, but she hurriedly dismissed such thoughts, lest they'd rip away at her new-found confidence with him.

_When all this is over_..._will I_..._just__ I, no children, no intimacy_..._be enough for him_? She grimaced under her mask, hating her own weakness, for allowing herself to doubt. _Don't think about it_. Besides, she had never imagined herself to have children, it was another mark of her father, she supposed. For how could she, a woman raised in a family that wasn't one, who had the same dedication to her work as her father...even dare to try raise a child of her own? She didn't want to give such a child the same raising as she had received, it wouldn't be fair to her or him.

Though she _had_ imagined those sacred moments with fellow Quarians...but in her imagination there had been little of that sacredness to it once the suits came off... Nowadays, since her teens had passed, she was far more able to cope with such..._needs_...but she couldn't help but admit that Michael had a way of making them resurface.

_Maybe, someday, we could adopt_? Tali mentally cursed herself, but she couldn't help herself. She didn't know precisely where they were when it came to a human's perspective of courtship...but she was pretty sure they were together for...well...forever if she had anything to say about it.

It was surprising how little the thought scared her.

Blinking, she returned to the task at hand, watching quietly as Michael and Jacob marched up to a man waiting for them at the far end of a nearly overgrown path. The man was living in what seemed to be a almost permanent structure made from steel plates riveted together and covered with various plant-life to fill the gaps, though now he was waiting outside, watching the incoming men wearing a red jumpsuit and eyes widening in shock.

And that was no surprise, the man was virtually a mirror image of Jacob. Or _almost_...there was more grey in his hair, his skin wrinkly as human skin tended to get when they got older...he was slimmer built too, a civilian, not a warrior. There was also something..._wily_ in his stance...Tali didn't like it.

"J-Jacob?" There was shock in the voice, shock and...disappointment?

"Yeah, didn't expect that, did you?" Jacob replied, bitter. "After all, why would I care, huh?" He crossed his arms over his chest, eyes hostile. "And why _would_ I care, _dad_? Why would I care about someone who did _this_ to his crew?"

"Wait a minute, I didn't do that, the food on the planet did!" Ronald Taylor replied hurriedly, hands held up before him. "Son, I swear to you, if you just take me off this planet I'll give you all the answers you want." He took a pleading step forward, eyes softening. "If only you-"

"Don't give us that crap." Michael snarled, the man mimicking Jacob's stance as he glared down at the older man. "We _saw_ the encampments, the spoiled rations, the records you never bothered to delete, we _know_ what you did." There was a coldness in his voice, but Tali saw his straight back, the slight twitching between the shoulder-blades...Michael was angry, _very_ angry.

And why _wouldn't_ he be? To do what Ronald had done to his crew..it was unforgivable by Quarian law, not to mention every moral fibre in Tali's body. Jacob seemed even more indignant about it, his voice rising. "My father was a good man, when did that cease to be! When you set off on this trip! After the crash! When you divided the women among the officers! Or maybe when you killed the first of them for voicing his doubts about it all!"

"H-hey...I...we _had_ a plan..." Ronald defended himself, taking a step backwards, hands still raised as his eyes darted down to the pistol Jacob was now resting his hand on. "...I...things just got out of control...I made a few examples and then...well...things got better, seemed I had earned some peace..." A trembling smile. "This place isn't so bad..."

Then he was yanked forward, Michael's hand grasping his collar as the Commander pulled him closer. "Not so bad! You created your personal _harem_ out of your crew, people you were _responsible_ for, that _trusted_ you...and you think you've done good!"

"They're not sufferi-"

"Don't _lie_ to me!" Michael shook the man, _hard_, both hands on Ronald's collar, hoisting him into the air as Michael glared at the struggling figure. "You've reduced them to little more then animals, yet even _they_ know something is wrong, that they're in _pain_! You were made their _captain_! Did you even for a _second_ consider doing what you were sworn to do! What they _trusted_ you to do!"

The only answer was Ronald gasping for breath as he struggled in the iron grip on his worn jumpsuit.

Then Jacob's hand come forth, resting on Michael's arm...the Commander shot the Cerberus man a confused look...but slowly lowered Ronald back unto his feet.

While the man gasped for air, Jacob turned his eyes upon him, his eyes cold. "So what now? You think you're getting rescued? For all these crimes...you're not worth it."

To Tali's utter shock, the father smiled as he straightened. "I'm the _only_ one worth saving, I still have an intact mind. Judging my actions isn't for you to do, take me back to the Alliance as your protocol tells you to do, like the _honourable_ soldier you are."

Jacob's mouth turned into a thin line, his eyes narrowing in anger.

Yet it was Michael who spoke, his eyes cold with calculating anger. "Shame you haven't kept up to date with your son's career, _Captain_." A pause as Ronald turned a questioning look to him...and the corner of Michael's lip twitched. "He's Cerberus now, not Alliance, he _has_ no protocol to follow."

Tali didn't think it was possible for dark-skinned humans...but Ronald visibly paled at the words, his mouth moving, but no words coming.

Michael looked to Jacob, eyes cold, as was Jacob's as he looked back. "Well, Jacob, what do you want to do with him?"

"I want justice..." Jacob calmly replied, then looked back to his still stunned father as his voice turned into a growl. "...though I'm unsure what punishment is enough for what he has done."

Michael too looked back to Ronald, his eyes remaining cold and calculating as he spoke to Jacob as if the topic of their conversation wasn't even there. "A Captain is in in the end responsible for his crew, and as such answers to them...how about letting _them_ decide his fate while we go and arrange pick-up and treatment of them?"

"W-what? Ronald stuttered, eyes wide as he stared at Michael. "N-no, yo-you can't do that! You don't know what they'll do to me!"

In the distance, a man howled, it was a howl of hatred and blood-lust.

Tali nodded towards it, feeling satisfaction at the punishment, a captain did _indeed_ answer to his crew, _especially_ among the Quarians...and this crime was horrible enough to merit a punishment of karma. "I think we have a pretty good idea..."

"You made your own bed, now lie in it." Jacob growled, and without further ado, turned and began to walk away, his face a grim mask. "Goodbye, father."

The others followed, walking away, hearing the sound of men running out of the under-brush as the protection of the well-armed group disappeared, of Ronald screaming as he tried to run away...as he was caught and pulled away to whatever they had prepared for him.

None looked back.

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_Thanks to Abydos Jackson for all her help._


	62. Chapter 62

There was something in the air.

Even tired as she was, Tali could feel it. She had been up late plotting the energy flow of the ship in detail, much to her fellow engineers frustration, but Michael had ordered that every bit of extra strength should be squeezed out of the systems, and when he said something was necessary you _did_ it. Still...the tense energy within the Normandy was unmistakable to even the weariest of crew members.

For they all felt the shift in the wind, the fact that there were no more ground-team members to recruit or help, the fact that Michael was more energetic then usual, even as he smirked viciously to himself whenever he thought nobody noticed.

So within the Normandy they waited, waited and prepared, prepared to stop defending, to go on the offensive.

Tali yawned, torn between her need for sleep...not to mention eating, her growling stomach reminded her...and duty. There wasn't any real rush with the slight modification to the Normandy systems...but duty won out, as always, making her move for the elevator to find Michael. Much to the relief of Gabby and Kenneth,both still huffing and puffing after climbing through the ship's ducts for hours.

Stepping out into the hallway and turning towards the elevator, Tali threw a glance to the holographic projector inserted into the wall. "EDI, locate Shepard for me, please." It wasn't long ago Tali wouldn't even deign to speak to an AI, never mind be _polite_...but life was apparently full of surprises.

The Hologram the AI preferred instantly appeared._ Why a pawn_?_ Is that how it sees itself_..._or am I just reading too much into it_? "Commander Shepard is down in the cargo hold." There was some amusement in the synthetic voice at the way Tali came to a confused stop. "He and Mr Vakarian have turned it into a gym, so far comments about it are positive."

_That man_... Tali shook her head in amusement. "Thank you."Crossing the last distance, Tali stepped into the elevator and pressed the button to go down to the cargo hold, her smirk fading as she considered the AI. _Maybe I should mention it to Michael as well_..._free_ _she_ _would_ _be_ _more_ _efficient_..._Keelah_, _if the admiralty board could read my mind they would put me on trial again_...

With a shudder, the elevator came to a stop, making Tali chuckle in memory of the old Normandy's elevator. _The Alliance really did a poor job with that one_...

Ahead, the door opened, making her forget all about AI and slow elevators at the strange sight before her.

Cargo holds were, by and large, cluttered with items and boxes in various sizes. As such it was strange to find much of that having been moved to the edges of the hold, creating a large space in the middle. Somehow, Michael and Garrus had found a large matt coloured a pale blue, that now covered most of the free surface, atop it were various pieces of training equipment that they had to have dug up from some box or another. Tali shook her head at it, normally, between missions, regular exercise on an open spot and the like, not to mention the training regime the sleeping pods put your body through while you slept, you didn't _need_ a gym...but apparently the boys thought otherwise.

Nor was it only Garrus and Michael that was using it. Zaeed was sitting on a low crate in a corner, dumbbell in his right hand as the arm pumped up and down under the mercenary's glare, as if he was _daring_ the arm to tire. Jacob was there too, though at least he had gotten out of his armour in exchange for slacks and a white tank-top that stuck to his chest like a wet tissue as he kept dancing around a large sack hanging from a chain, his gloved hands again and again flicking out to make it shake and spin with the force of the blows.

The creators themselves stood in the centre stage, or rather, were circling each other, the human and Turian hunched low as they gauged one another, at times one made a move to attack, only to back off as the other shifted in preparation. Clearly they were wary of one another's skill as they continued their game, both looked decidedly sweaty, chests covered in wet white cloth heaving, Michael with a slight scratch along his bare shoulder, Garrus favouring one leg. _Men_...

But at least it was _productive_, they got exercise and kept their skills sharp...Garrus had apparently not joked about him being a top hand to hand specialist if he could keep Michael at bay, after all.

As such the two women in the room puzzled Tali all the more so, making her step into the room and then slowly move towards them, head cocked to the side.

Kelly and Kasumi were both standing to the far right of the room, leaning back against a crate large enough to dwarf them both, arms crossed over their chests as they observed the training before them. Even as Tali watched, Kasumi tilted her head to Kelly and muttered something, drawing a chuckle and a nod from the other woman.

"What are you two doing...?" Tali asked, moving closer, feeling almost nervous at the sight of the grins of the two women as they looked back to her. There was something...weird with them.

"Exercising." Kasumi answered cheerfully, teeth flashing in a wicked grin.

Coming to a stop, Tali crossed her arms over her chest and shifted her weight, an eyebrow they couldn't see arched. "You don't _look_ like your exercising...in fact, I'd say you're just lounging around doing nothing."

"Mraw...always so serious." Kasumi replied with a low chuckle, one hand forming claws that she playfully swiped through the air. "Relax, will you?"

"Besides...this _is_ exercising..." Kelly smirked at Tali, then looked over at the two duelling friends, hand waving to brush some cool air into her face, voice low. "...it's getting _me_ warm, at least..."

"Huh?" Tali stared at the woman as if she had gone mad, then shot Kasumi a glare as the thief chuckled. "What in all the blazes are you _talking_ about? There's free equipment right there, if you're going to claim you're exercising, then at least pick one up..." _I know they have their uses_..._but_ _such_ _laziness_..._a Quarian captain would have them on cleaning detail for that_.

"Oh you sweet, innocent little Quarian..." Kelly replied, sounding patronizing. "We're enjoying the _view_, silly...it's not often I get to see Garrus out of his armour and all out of breath. Well..." Her eyes flashed in mischief. "...not more then once per day, any way."

"Oh." Tali blinked, realising what the woman was talking about. "_Oh_..." Suddenly finding her face heating up, she turned her head, looking over at the struggling fighters. It was _true_ that one didn't see Garrus outside his armour that often...and though still in shirt and pants, one _could_ now see more of him. _Turians are so lean and scaly_..._that must feel_..._weird_ _for_ _Kelly_. "I...erm...see..."

"Not like _I_ see him." Kelly murmured, grin flashing. "Turians really are quite..._beastly_ when they get going you know, all claws and power...but afterwards ever so gentle..." Tali's eyes widened into saucers. "...Garrus isn't a typical Turian, I know, but in this respect...I'm glad he sticks with what his race does best."

"I-I...did _not_ need to know that about my friend..." Tali grimaced, not in the least liking where the conversation was going even as she eyed Garrus as the man lunged for Michael, only to dart away before the attack finished. She had never had any romantic feelings for the Turian, he was more of a brother...in fact she was unsure what Kelly saw in the man, though she was glad for him, he had been alone for too long...yet she supposed she could see the..._attraction_ with such a lean predator, one made for pouncing upon their prey and overpower them...Tali's cheeks flushed just a bit more, voice low. "Must be...nice."

Apparently not low enough though, as Kelly chuckled, nodding sagely. "Oh, you have _no_ idea..." A shrug as she returned to look at the Turian. "So right now I'm happy to watch and..._wet_ my appetite."

For some reason that made Kasumi laugh. "Oh Kelly, that one was _bad_!" _Huh_? Kelly just snickered even as Kasumi turned her gaze to Tali. "As for me...well...I haven't jumped him yet, but that's no reasons my eyes can't..._sample_ Jacob, he's built like a tank...always nice to watch."

_Okay_...? Tali looked away from the thief's grin and over to Jacob, the dark skinned man was indeed broad-shouldered and solidly built, a mountain of muscle atop thick legs, a typical soldier, which was all the more obvious now that both slacks and that white shirt of his was clinging to him. _Eugh_..._sweat_. As a Quarian, Tali had a natural dislike for anything striking her as _unclean_...and while sweat technically wasn't anything but water, salt and some minerals...it still struck one of those nerves. "It isn't that interesting to look at..." She shook her head, confused.

"True, to _you_..." Kelly replied diplomatically...then exchanged a smirk with Kasumi as she continued. "...but then again, you're not only a Quarian, but interested in _Shepard_."

"That doesn't mean I want to look at him being all gross and..." Tali automatically turned her gaze to the man. "...sweaty..." Indeed, he _was_ sweaty, that shirt of his sticking to him like a second skin. He was taller then Jacob, but just as muscled, muscles glinting in the lamplight with the sweat covering them as they moved... "I mean...that's just...erm..." There was a dichotomy with how he moved, there was the great control of his every move...yet a passion beneath, a passion just held back by discipline and training, a passion ready to be released, to flood forth and take control of _anyone_ caught in its path..._dominating_ them...

Next to her, there was a murmur.

_Held down, unable to resist such a passion_... Tali shook her head, feeling as if she had just recovered from a dazing blow. "I'm sorry...what?" She tore her gaze away from the sight.

Kelly laughed at her, perhaps noticing the flush underneath her visor. "I asked; 'do you see our point now?'" Tali's head dropped, gaze finding her feet in embarrassment even as Kelly snickered. "I think that's a 'yes'..."

"So..." Kasumi had a smile in her voice. "How many times a day do you see _Shepard_ all..._beastly_?"

Tali paled at the question even as Kelly smacked Kasumi's shoulder, face alight with irritation. "Kasumi! Can't you see she hasn't yet!"

"Hey! We're not all as super observant about people having gotten laid as some..." Kasumi retorted, almost sounding annoyed for a moment, then she turned back to Tali. "So...none, then?"

"Well...of course not..." Tali replied, trying to regain her self-control. "...I mean with the suit and all...it's not like we can really..._do_ stuff." '_Stuff_'? _Come on, Tali, you're a grown woman_! _A grown woman stuck in a suit and as inexperienced as a child_..._eugh_...

"Now that's not really true, is it?" Kelly, surprisingly, protested, arms over her chest as she eyed Tali with an odd look in her stance. It wasn't exactly disapproval...more like..._concern_. "You _know_ as well as I that there are many precautions that can be made...even with another race at one end, the Quarian's aren't as cut off from the galactic community as they might think at times..."

Tali stared at the woman, not having expected someone to confront her with _facts_. _Then again, Kelly seems to know everything there is about any form of_..._affection_. "I...well...true..." _Keelah, so true_...

"Are you just scared of getting sick...?"

"No!" Tali protested, feeling a spike of anger at such a ridiculous notion. She was _used_ to getting sick, every time a shot pierced her suit, even a glancing hit, she got sick...getting sick was part of being a Quarian, and actually something she handled with far more ease and grace then _most_ Quarians.

Kelly frowned, looking curious. "Is it...the risk of dying...?"

Tali snorted, arms crossing over her chest as she leant back. "That risk is _tiny_...and I'm on a mission some call a _suicide_ _mission_...what do _you_ think?"

"So...what is it?" Kasumi wondered, the thief sounding genuinely puzzled.

As was Kelly, the woman nodding. "You don't...want him to see you?"

Tali found her eyes squeezing shut, her gut tightening. "I..." _Yes, __so__ much_... "...it's not like that, it's...difficult to explain."

"Not really." Kelly retorted, a smile playing on her lips. "You fear his reaction when he sees you." _Damn_ _you_... The smile became reassuring. "I've seen suit-less Quarians, Tali. They're attractive to a human eye..."

"I'm not _a_ Quarian, and Michael's not _a_ human..." Tali protested, knowing it sounded odd. _It's him and I_..._if he was disappointed I'd die_..._it doesn't matter if he would still love me, it would_..._hurt_.

"No, I suppose it doesn't matter how Quarians look to humans when it's about how _you_ look to _him_..." Kelly answered, echoing Tali's thought. _Damn observant little_... "Personally, I think you're worrying about nothing, love is like a pair of goggles, whatever is behind that visor, he'll worship it." _And annoyingly positive too_...

_Not to mention persuasive_... "I..._guess_..." Tali squirmed where she stood, uncomfortable as her imagination ran rampant, images she had suppressed, tried to ignore, resurfacing, making her heart thud hard with sudden desire, which only served to make her squirm even more, gaze darting over to the oblivious Michael. _Dammit_...

Chuckling, Kasumi chimed in. "It would be a shame never to get it done, too, all that tension without an outlet? It would be a _crime_ to waste it."

Kelly ignored the thief as she moved closer, cocking her head as she looked down at Tali, something soft in her eyes. "Besides, you mentioned it yourself, it might not be, but they call it a suicide mission for a _reason_." Tali swallowed, heart stopping. _Don't say it_. "Do you really want to go into it, and if something happens to either of you..." _Don't_. "...never taken the opportunity to be with him? To have him see your face? To see his without a visor in the way? To never have kissed him?"

Tali's shoulders slumped, her head dropping as her heart was squeezed in a vice at the thought of such a loss. "I...when you put it that way...my fear seems ridiculous..."

"Oh?" Kasumi smiled, though it wasn't playful this time, just an honest, simple, _smile_. "Not afraid of his reaction when he sees your face now?"

Kelly shot the other human a glare, but Tali managed a chuckle, despite the way her gut tightened at the thought. "Of course I am...but I'm more scared of..." Her gaze strayed to Kelly. "..._that_. I'll..." Her gaze moved further, finding Michael and Garrus now doing push-ups, the two grinning at one another as they pushed the pace...and smiled at the sight. "..._talk_ to him about it..."

"He'll be delighted." Kelly promised, a smile on her lips.

8

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8

Silence.

Calm.

Emptiness.

Peace.

Thane found something rare on his lips...a _smile_. Next to him, Samara, still deep in meditation, noticed his mood. Her voice was low and controlled as she maintained the biotic orb that she used as a focus. "You are ready."

It wasn't a question, but Thane answered none the less, his eyes still closed, his meditative stance remaining undisturbed. "Yes." A pause. "I am at peace, my son has turned from the path of darkness. Whether I die from Collectors or my sickness, I can now do so in peace."

Silence.

Calm.

And Samara...slightly less lost in her role as the Justicar. Noticing it Thane kept smiling. "And you?"

"I am a broken shell, my daughter's blood on my hands." Was the response, but Thane waited, knowing Samara wanted no sympathy or coddling, that she didn't require it. "Yet I am at peace, for the first time in three hundred years...I feel peace in my heart." He didn't see it, but he felt it, Samara was..._relaxing_. "I will fight, I will struggle...die or survive, I am at peace."

"We are ready." Thane nodded, taking as deep a breath as his weakening lungs would allow. "The ship, the crew, do you feel its pulse? We are ready."

"We are not guaranteed victory...but yes." Samara agreed.

Silence.

Peace.

Calm.

Shattered by the sound of Tali's indignant squeal. "It was just a suggestion! No need to threaten Chiktikka!"

"I wasn't threatening it-_him_! I made a _promise_! Damn thing keeps ramming me whenever I disagree with you! I swear, you _programmed_ that..." Michael grumbled back, making Thane's smile widen. _Bickering_? "And don't change the subject, I can't believe you would suggest that, you're a _Quarian_!"

Tali was, _apparently_, not backing down though, her armoured boots clattering against the floor as she and Michael seemed to chase one around behind the meditating pair as they headed for the kitchen. "Which is _why_ you should listen to me, I'm an AI _expert_...if _I_ say it's a good idea, it _is_!"

"Oh sure, you're _perfect_!" Thane could practically _feel_ the human roll his eyes.

"_Your_ words, not _mine_!" Tali retorted, though the anger was coloured with amusement. "EDI would be more useful that way! Now stop being _thick-headed_ and _agree_ with me!"

"Oh, so _that's_what I am!"

"_Yes_!"

A thud...and silence descended, telling Thane that Samara had closed the door behind them with a biotic push. The Asari's voice was, as ever, calm itself. "Some of us are less at peace then others, it seems."

"I think some find peace in conflict." Thane responded casually, then smiled. "It is...inspiring."

Silence.

Then Samara speaking. "Explain."

"To see such...passion, even in the horrors of what we're to face, of the approaching darkness... Such love, it shines through it, makes these dangers seem smaller all of a sudden." Thane took another deep breath, feeling completely at peace. "It gives me...hope."

Silence.

Then Samara spoke. "Agreed."

And that all that that was needed to be said.

8

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8

Michael sighed, content.

Sitting on his couch, he had slid forward until he nearly lay on the backrest. The back of Tali's head was in his lap as she lay in her favourite position, legs up on the backrest in the corner of the couch, hands over her stomach and head in his lap as she looked up at him.

Smiling back he stroked the edge of her cowl, a chuckle bubbling out of him for no reason. The memory of their argument, if one could call that _bickering_ an argument, already fading...surprisingly leaving a pleasant impression in his mind, as if part of him had actually _enjoyed_ it. _How curious_...

Of course, Tali had won the argument, with a smile Michael admitted to himself it probably was because she simply was _smarter_ then him. EDI would be free...Michael _supposed_ he should be scared or at least _worried_...but currently he couldn't bring himself to care.

Sighing, he put his free arm over Tali's stomach as his right continued to stroke her cowl, enjoying the smoothness even as he sought something to say. Not that it was needed...the two were at the point that they could be comfortable with one another in silence...but that was not the usual state, and currently Michael felt a need to hear her voice, despite having heard it just a few minutes ago. _I'm_ _awful_... He grinned at himself.

But then, to his surprise, Tali's hands moved, coming to rest on his arm over her belly, stroking it as she shifted where she lay, a clear sign she had something on her mind, as if the way she struggled not to have her fingers fiddle with one another wasn't enough of a hint. "Tali?"

"I...erm...there's something I wanted to talk to you about...or..._ask_...I suppose." Tali hesitated, making Michael blink in surprise.

He managed a reassuring smile though, squeezing her waist. "Hey, it's _me_, you know you can tell me anything."

"True...I just don't know how to...start...I guess." Tali squirmed where she lay, hesitating...but Michael held his tongue, waiting, holding back a smile. _This ought to be good_... "Erm...I'm your girlfriend...right?"

Michael laughed. _That's it_? "That's pretty safe to say, yes...feels like I should use a more serious title to describe it, but I can't think of one." Tali wasn't relaxing from his answer though, making him frown. "Why...?"

"Well...we haven't done everything girlfriends and boyfriends usually do yet..." Tali responded, squirming where she lay, impatient.

Michael blinked, raking his brain. "You mean...like a date? We've had those, well...only here and on the Citadel if you call that dance a date. I suppose...you want to go out for dinner on, say...Illium?" Tali's hands didn't stop their stroking, telling Michael he was off the mark and making him frown. "Erm...movie? Like in a theatre? I...if you want a joint vacation or something, I don't think we have time...and that doesn't sound like something you would..." She shifted, _more_ impatient with him now. "...no, that's not it...I...I'm sorry I'm not sure I..."

Again, a shift in Tali's stance, a mix of annoyance and embarrassment. "I didn't miss your birthday...? No, that's two months from now. I...you want to go for a..." He raked his brain for a suggestion, but came with nothing sensible. "...swim?"

Tali sighed, looking away. "You really can't come up with it...?" She sounded...disappointed.

Michael grimaced, hating himself for his idiocy. "I...sorry, no...I can't..."

Tali's head snapped back, looking up at him, right hand shooting up and grabbing his collar, pulling him closer to her visor. Her voice held a hint of anger...but also trembled with uncertainty. "G-girlfriends and boyfriends u-usually..." An exasperated sigh...and Tali visibly tensed as she looked back at him. "...they sleep together, dolt!"

Michael felt something grip his heart, painful and uncomfortable, yet he held back, forcing himself to smile. "You've slept in my bed with me before, silly..."

Tali's voice was a growl. "I didn't mean like that!" Then hesitated, the grip on his collar weakening as she took a trembling breath and turned her gaze away. "I meant...without a suit and..._together_." Her gaze moved back, looking up at him, searching.

For a moment Michael just stared at her, unable to comprehend the words.

Then he felt it, the yearning he had learnt to suppress for so long, the desire welling up like a monster he'd hidden away...stealing his breath away and making his fingers twitch as he struggled with what he had taught himself to stop feeling for _her_ sake.

Then he felt..._anger_. Sitting up straight, his voice rose. "Absolutely _not_! That's...out of the question!" He shook his head, gritting his teeth. "How could you even..._ask_ such a thing of me!"

Tali stiffened, half rising where she lay, a hand on her hip and silver eyes narrowing as her own voice rose. "What, you find me _that_ unappealing?"

"What! _No_! I would like nothing _but_..." Michael shook his head, not daring to enter that line of thought, inching away from Tali as she sat up. "You can't just...I've gotten so used to us _not_ being able to do that...you can't _tease_ me like that! It's not fair!"'

"I'm not _teasing_! I'm _suggesting_!" Tali growled back, inching closer to him, eyes glowing with anger. "It _is_ possible, you know!"

"I _know_ that!" Michael did, he _really_ did...he had rsearched everything about Quarian's except for what they looked like, for that was too sacred, too tied to Tali. And he was _well_ aware of the information about Quarian intimate relationships..._too_ aware. He glared at the Quarian. "I'm not going to risk you getting sick or dying! Not for..._that_!" Tali moved to speak...and he slashed his hand in the air. "_No_! It's out of the question!"

"What? You're afraid of me getting sick! I get sick all the time due to my immune system, most of the time not even _you_ notice!" Tali snarled back. "And the risk of me actually dying is _minimal_!"

"I don't care how _small_ it is, it's _there_, and I'm not about to let some need for sexual relief risk you like that!" Michael snarled back, barely holding himself back from _shoving_ the woman for such a suggestion...the temptation...it _hurt_.

"Oh sure, but risking me dying on missions is _fine_!" Tali retorted, making Michael grimace as she crossed her arms over her chest, chin held high. "You think those bullets are _less_ dangerous!"

"I...that's not fair! We _need_ to do those missions! And I _need_ you on those missions! This...sex...that's a _luxury_!" Michael shook his head, trying to retreat, but finding he was out of couch to pull back on, he shook his head furiously though. "No, I won't let my selfish needs risk you like that!"

"Oh? And you don't think _I_ have needs!" Came the reply, making him blink in surprise as he found Tali looking away, her anger simmering down, turning into bitterness. "I...don't you think _I_ want to be with you...to actually touch you for _real_...for you to..._see_ me?" She looked back up at him...and something akin to a sniffle escaped her. "D-don't you think it's worth...if something would to h-happen..."

"That _won't_ happen." Michael interrupted, gripping Tali's shoulders, certain beyond faith, he _had_ to be, he _demanded_ it of himself.

"Y-you can't say that..." Tali murmured, head dipping low...then looked up at him, silver eyes narrowing. "You can't control everything, you _know_ that." A finger shot out, poking him hard in the chest. "This is _my_ choice...and I choose to risk it."

Michael hesitated...blinking, surprised at feeling wetness in the corners of his eyes as his voice went thin. "You can't do that to me...I...if you got sick or even _d_-_died_...I...how would I be able to look at myself...?"

"Like I did..." Was the soft reply, reminding Michael all too well of Tali's old pain, the wound was healed...but the memory lingered. "...by embracing duty..." She moved a hand up, softly placing it over his cheek as she held his gaze. "...but you would also know I died happy..." A small smile in her voice. "...that I thought it was worth it."

"I..." Michael cleared his throat, finding it thick with emotion. "...you're so..._perfect_." He grimaced at himself even as Tali softly chuckled at the words. "But I just...I just don't know if..."

"Minimal risk...and a great reward, a _needed_ reward..." Tali, still chuckling, muttered. "...if it was a mission you'd _jump_ at the chance. I know you fear for me...but trust me when I say that that's the _least_ of the things worrying me...with the right precautions it's such a small risk it's not worth noting..."

_Least of_..._oh_..._your_ _face_... Michael managed a reassuring smile, left hand coming up to catch hers, holding it fast against his cheek as his right moved out, softly brushing her visor. Whenever he thought of that moment...that had been _his_ smallest concern...for he felt confident in his love for her. He managed a weary chuckle. "You...make a convincing argument..."

Tali snorted, leaning closer and over his now lying shape, her visor finding his forehead. "I'll...do some research...but it's now decided, right?" Michael managed a nod...and Tali giggled. "Oh, and don't make it sound as if you're making some great sacrifice..."

Michael chuckled back, arms wrapping around Tali's shoulders. "My apologies, princess..." Her snort was nearly lost in his shirt as he pressed her visored face into his chest. "I meant your arguments for gracing me with such generous a bounty were most impressive..."

"I _did_ have one spare, just in case..." Tali replied with a low chuckle, hands on his chest as she managed to free her head enough to look up at him.

"Oh?" Michael arched an eyebrow.

"Yes..." Tali muttered, leaning closer, voice hushed as she looked him in the eyes. "...the fact that I deeply, _desperately_...want to feel you..." A tiny gasp. "...inside me..."

Michael's throat dried out. "I...a _v_-_very_ good argument..."

Tali nuzzled closer, head coming to rest on his chest, something akin to a satisfied purr escaping her. "I thought so too..."

8

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_Thanks to Abydos Jackson for being who she is._


	63. Chapter 63

For a brief second the Omega four relay glowed like a second sun.

The Sahrabarik system in the Omega nebula that the relay inhabited was thickly trafficked. Pirates, unscrupulous merchants, slavers and mercenaries all had stakes in Omega, a space station that was a metropolis for shady businesses...as such the area was filled with more ships than a busy trading port. Freighters, frigates and even small fighters crowded around one another to get access to a dock or to use the normal relay to leave the place, they ducked and weaved around one another as they flew, there was no order, for there was none to impose it. From a distance it would look like thousands of glowing fishes, all crowding around the coral that was the Omega station.

But where fish were, sharks also existed.

Still glowing crimson from the jump through the relay, the Collector cruiser dwarfed any of the vessels teeming around it...and its sudden appearance instantly triggered a reaction taught to anyone going to Omega; when the Collectors came, you _ran_.

It was almost an explosion of activity as all ships, pirates, merchants, slavers and mercenaries alike, fled, some flying straight for Omega to hide in its shadow, others simply putting full throttle away from the great beast of a ship. One moment the system was teeming with activity from thousands of ships, the next they had _all_ fled from the monstrous cruiser moving forth.

All but _one_ ship.

Having stayed still at an angle to the 'wrong' end of the Omega four relay, this ship, nothing more then a tiny frigate, shot forth. Its great engines were at full throttle, and as thousands of sensors of surprised onlookers focused at the suicidal vessel...it opened fire.

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"Collector cruiser exited the relay at precisely the coordinates given, Aria T-Loak's information was good, the Collector vessels make precise jumps through their relay and are, as such, predictable." EDI calmly concluded in the cockpit even as the air within it was tense. Standing right behind a frantically working Joker, Michael watched with narrowed eyes the ugly Collector warship's stern, his fists clenching and unclenching even as EDI continued. "Distance is thirty kilometres and closing, enemy sensors have detected us."

"No surprise there, it's just like last time, cut the stealth system, more energy to the engines and pick your targets." Michael ordered, despite knowing it wasn't needed, Joker, as well as the rest of the crew, had received their instructions in detail.

"Collector vessel is powering weapons and turning to face us at 15 percent faster rate then anticipated, advise evasive action to position zero, dash, five." EDI announced, drawing a grumble from Joker even as the Normandy jerked with a sudden roll. "I have detected and targeted enemy manoeuvring thrusters; firing." Instantly, the space before them became filled with white lights as the Normandy's javelin weaponry shot forth torpedo after torpedo.

Ahead, the Collector cruiser tried to turn, yet the mass of the vessel worked against it, and three pairs of torpedoes struck its left side with unerring precision, making Michael's clenched jaw twitch in satisfaction. "Let's show these Collectors that there's more to military might then firepower..."

He grinned. This wasn't a _perfect_ plan, not by far, but it was a solution in Michael's taste, a _military_ solution. The Collectors and Illusive man thought in the same way; they made calculations based on might and technology..._both_ forgot that there was more to combat then simple numbers or weapons, a _thinking_ warrior with nothing but a grenade could best the most modern of tanks...and Michael intended to prove it.

And what better way to prove it, than with an old-fashioned ambush?

"Multiple hits, enemy manoeuvring thrusters at eighty percent efficiency. Enemy weapon charging to fire." EDI announced damage and danger with the same calm, Michael had feared freeing her would have caused some sort of change in their relationship, but so far there was nothing, in fact...EDI almost seemed all the _more_ motivated to help them, to..._prove_ herself, perhaps. This wasn't the time for such thinking though, for even as Michael watched, the Collector cruiser managed to turn enough to the left for its powerful front gun to get a shot at them.

A blaze of yellow light...hitting nothing but vacuum as Joker rolled to the right, moving the Normandy back towards the Collector cruiser's stern. "Keep hitting those thrusters, EDI!"

More javelin torpedoes shot forth as Joker banked the Normandy hard around the much larger vessel, the blasts of the impacts tearing great chunks of rock and steel away from the vessel. "Enemy manoeuvring at sixty percent." EDI concluded, almost sounding..._smug_...only to become serious again. "I have matched the silhouette of the vessel, it is the cruiser from Horizon."

"_Good_." Joker growled, for once there was not an ounce of humour in his voice, his eyes fixed on the large ship ahead. "It destroyed my old baby...this is payback."

"Easy there Joker, no destroying it..." Michael muttered, putting a hand on Joker's shoulder.

The pilot shook it off, eyes narrowing as more torpedoes shot forth and into the wounded beast ahead. "No...not _yet_." A growl. "I can easily keep myself behind it now, EDI, shift targeting to enemy sensors with EMP missiles, garble their communications and hack internal systems as much as you can."

"Already on it, Jeff." Came the calm reply. EDI's hologram turned to look at Michael. "Shepard, we suggest you head for the shuttle, I calculate that we can initiate phase two within the next two minutes." Then the hologram spun back to look to Joker. "Jeff, enemy signals. Ten fighter-sized vehicles leaving a hidden hangar and moving to intercept us."

"Power up the GARDIAN lasers and keep those torpedoes at the enemy sensors, I'll keep those things from getting good shots at us!" Joker shot Michael a look, stopping him from opening his mouth. "And _yes_, I _won't_ fly in _front_ of the giant enemy gun, _thanks_ boss...now get going!"

For a short moment Michael stared at Joker, baffled by the sudden tension of the pilot...but then grinned as he offered a quick salute. "Yes, sir!" _Can't complain about his motivation_...

Grinning viciously, Michael ran for the shuttle.

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"This is Shepard, primary team deployed, secondary team to deploy at drop-off point delta." Michael called out, the inside of his helmet alight with the tactical HUD as he watched the battle between the Normandy and the Collector cruiser unfold while at the same time seeing where the shuttle and hammerhead tank were going. "Hammerhead to provide cover as secondary team deploy."

Outside, the Collector cruiser was as it had been before, a disgusting hive-like construct mixing a system of caves with ugly steel bulkheads as well as a highly advanced system of doors and machinery. There were no present enemies though, the sensors where they had deployed had been destroyed or crippled with a wide spread, meaning the Collectors would have to find the team the old fashioned way.

Still, the team would have to move fast, because once discovered the Collectors would try to swarm them. In front of him the rest of his team was spreading out, kneeling low as they scanned their surroundings with ready weapons.

Zaeed and Thane were setting up forward positions down the main corridor, sniper rifles ready to silence any would-be spotter, meanwhile Mordin and Samara kept the side-entrances covered with their respective weapons, both looking alert and ready. Miranda and Tali were kneeling next to a Collector bulkhead, the human having ripped it open with her biotics so the Quarian could get to the wiring beneath. The Quarian was hacking enemy systems for information while cross-checking it with Miranda's omni-tool as the human plotted the best path to the enemy bridge using their old data from the ship and what Tali was just now digging up.

Michael had his own work to do though, and kept his head low as he focused on EDI's words. "Manoeuvring Hammerhead, two enemy fighters moving to engage shuttle, intercepting and engaging." Within Michael's helmet, he watched the hammerhead engage the two dots that were the enemy ships. He _had_ been hesitant to let EDI control the hammerhead and rely on the AI to provide the vital cover for the unarmed shuttle...but the benefit of freeing up a member of the team as well as giving the Hammerhead unsurpassed reflexes and combat awareness was too great...and EDI was already proving a capable dog-fighter as one of the enemy fighters disappeared. "Remaining fighter bee-lining for landing shuttle, stopping it." The blip of the enemy fighter disappeared...as did that of the hammerhead as EDI dispassionately rammed it into her foe to keep it from reaching the shuttle and its occupants.

"Good work, EDI, status on the Normandy?" Michael muttered, feeling his pulse quicken even as he saw Miranda and Tali stand up, his second in command gesturing down the main corridor. Michael nodded and waved towards it, making the team break cover and advance.

"Ablative armour damaged but holding from multiple enemy hits, enemy fighters reduced to one...make that zero, enemy main engine are powering to maximum to retreat, but we are destroying it, manoeuvring thrusters at ten percent efficiency." EDI replied. "Jeff wishes to announce he 'has them by the balls'."

"Good work, I want disruptive attacks along enemy hull to cause confusion, contact me only when any danger presents itself as I'm switching to the secure ground-communications, Shepard out." Michael switched off the distracting map within his helmet, knowing his focus was needed on the 'ground' now. "Second team, status report."

"Jacob here." Came the garbled reply, a hiss of static...and then it went crystal clear as the two commanders' communication systems synced. "Deployed at drop-off point delta and moving up, EDI has given us a rough estimate of the position of their Mass effect core, we are moving to find Engineering. Legion is currently hacking an enemy console for further information, no hostiles encountered, we can hear them though."

"Good, keep moving and seize Engineering for as long as possible, they must not be allowed to self-destruct the vessel when they realise what we're about to do." Michael growled. "Good hunting, Shepard out."

Turning his attention back to his own team as they snuck forth, Michael watched as Zaeed swung around a corner, his tarnished old Avenger rifle sweeping left and right, but finding now targets. A moment later he was waving his hand forth as he growled. "Clear."

Moving forth, Michael saw that the room indeed was empty of enemy forces, despite its size, it didn't seem to be much of a trafficked place, if the layer of dust on the ground of the steel floor was any indication. To the right there was a large door, closed, and that wall curved to the left as it lead towards another chamber in the distance. To the left there was nothing but a sheer drop, a few of the pods the collectors used to kidnap people were lining its edge.

The group moved forth heeding Miranda's silent wave towards the distant chamber...only to nearly jump as Jacob spoke up in their head-phones. "Secondary team has been spotted! I repeat, we have been _spotted_, engaged with half a dozen Collectors, one scion, enemy reinforcement is incoming."

Michael grimaced. _Dammit, they reacted swifter then I hoped_. "_Maintain_ advance and force your way forward, _don't_ get pinned down." He looked up to his team, waving forward. "Double time!" A sharp glance to the left. "Zaeed! Chuck a few grenades down that drop, it might distract them from Jacob's team." _And draw them closer to us_..._but as long as they're moving they're not fighting_.

A grunt...and a bandoleer sailed through the air and down into the drop even as the team ran into the next chamber, barely hearing the blast as the grenades went off deep in the chasm behind them.

The next chamber was covered with low tables stained black with old blood, piles of corpses almost neatly stacked in its corners, making Michael's fist clench...just as one of the corpses rose to its feet. It's black and blue skin glowing with unearthly energies as it focused two glowing orbs on Michael, its mouth opening in a moan as it raised a hand towards him.

"Don't shoot!" Michael commanded even as he swung, his armoured fist smashing through the skull of the husk as if it was a ripe melon, sending shards of black and blue ash spraying over the floor.

Many of the corpses were nothing but lifeless people, cruelly experimented on before being discarded...but some rose, revealing the abominable change wrought upon them as they moved to attack.

No weapons were fired, nor were there any shouts or cries.

There, Miranda flew forth, her hair a banner fluttering behind her, both heels slamming into the chest of a husk, knocking it off its feet and opening the torso with a loud crack. There, Zaeed ducked under a swing of a husk, only to grimly give it an uppercut that tore its jaw off. There, Tali spun low, scything leg knocking a third husk over...only for its neck to snap as Samara unceremoniously stomped on it. There, Mordin let two slow husks grip onto his shoulders...only to grab each by the head and slam them together, cracking their skulls before neatly slitting their throats with a scalpel suddenly in his hand.

"I hope the Collectors don't sense it when they lose these husks." Michael muttered even as he gestured at them to continue, knowing there was no time to praise the silent take-downs.

Ahead, their path was blocked by another of the Collectors large doors, but Tali was already at the console, swiftly working through the enemy system as the others moved to take up positions behind the stained workbenches...and not a moment too soon, as Tali got the door open in record time.

"Well...they know we're here _now_." Michael dully noted as he stared at the sight.

They had apparently opened a door in the middle of a long corridor...and within it _dozens_ of Collectors were running from the left doorway to the right...only to come to a sudden halt as they turned their insect-like heads towards the sudden opening on their right.

Michael wasted no time. "FIRE!"

Instantly the corridor ahead was filled with shots as the team unloaded on the unsuspecting Collectors. The insects, lacking any form of cover, could do nothing but to turn their weapons upon the team and fall as their end came.

Tali, still by the controls, prudently ran backwards for cover, her shotgun barking to slam one Collector off its feet. The covering fire of Michael, Zaeed and Miranda was far more efficient though, the high-calibre bullets of Michael's Revenant tore through the enemy lines from left to right, quickly followed by Zaeed's Avenger as Miranda's pistol picked off those surviving the storm of bullets.

Samara, on the other hand, simply raised her hands as her entire being became alight with biotic energy...and thrust them forward, sending a full dozen Collectors flying back into a wall with bone-crushing force.

None got up.

Another five Collectors began to run backwards the way they came...only for them all to freeze to the floor as their bodies became covered in frost. Mordin, his omni-tool still aglow from the cryo-blast, calmly fired five shots with his pistol, shattering the now brittle Collectors into pieces of frozen chitin and blood.

Then it was over.

Rising, Michael looked over to Tali, making sure she was okay even as he reloaded his machine gun. The Quarian was busy inserting a fresh heat sink into the Geth shotgun she ironically had learnt to favour, looking decidedly unhurt despite her earlier exposed position. _Good_. He smiled.

The smile swiftly vanished though as he vaulted the table he had used for cover. "They know we're here now, move out! We need to reach the Collector bridge as soon as possible!"

The team broke out into a run.

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"Dammit!" Jacob snarled, ducking low as three Collectors nearly took his head off with a concentrated volley of fire. To his left, Kasumi was crouching as well, the thief's presence surprisingly soothing, yet right now Jacob couldn't be calmed. "So close!"

His team was at the top of a slope, and down below the path opened into a large chamber filled with all manner of tubes and machinery that without a doubt was the cruiser's Engineering room, Jacob could even _see_ the controls to it!

Yet it might as well have been miles away.

For even though the slope gave the team a distinct advantage against the enemy below, since the low walls the Collectors were using couldn't quite cover them even when they crouched down, the resistance was to great to force. Even as Jacob risked another glance over his cover, he saw more Collectors rushing forth to join their comrades, some even trying to run up the slope to engage the team up close.

Not that that worked, in fact, Jack and Grunt to Jacob's right seemed both to _enjoy_ taking turns in sending the enemy charges flying back...preferably in _pieces_.

_But that's the crux, isn't it_? _Nothing but open ground between us, they can't get up here, but we can't get down there either, and we are the ones who need to take the ground_. Jacob gritted his teeth, frantically thinking. But there were few tactical options for storming down an open hallway against a well-entrenched and stronger enemy, in fact, his military training, not to mention common sense, told him it was suicide. _Yet_...

"Staying here is detrimental to reaching our objective." Legion stated, echoing Jacob's thoughts as the machine took a shot at a Collector from its corner to Jacob's left. "We request instructions."

_Shit, shit, shit_... Jacob was _well_ aware that the Collectors, if they could, would set off the mass effect generator of their own ship, destroying it to deny it to their enemy...and also taking the boarding team along with them to a cold grave._ Come on, think_! He tapped his communicator. "EDI, we require mapping, is there any other path to Engineering?"

"Negative, Mr Taylor, at least none that you can reach without an hour-long detour." EDI responded. "Apologies."

"Don't worry about it..." Jacob sighed, tapping off the communication even as he rubbed his temples. _That's my job_... "Storming is suicide...but staying here is worse..."

"Don't be so negative." Jacob turned to his right, finding Garrus right next to him, the Turian's mandible clicking with pleasure as he loosed a rifle shot at his foes, the barrel of his sniper rifle smoking with use. Looking at Jacob's perplexed look the Turian nodded down at the enemy's Engineering. "Look, they keep trying to reach one of those controls, bet it's for doing that overload thing...it's in clear sight, so..." He let the words hang there, looking a little uncertain with himself...yet encouraging towards Jacob.

"So we keep picking them off..." Jacob muttered, then smiled at the Turian as he nodded. "Yeah, that might work for a while. You and Legion keep that console free of hostiles, the rest of us will cover you."

Garrus nodded back, grinning, pleased. "Good plan!" Again, he swung out of cover to fire, his shot greeted by the meaty sound of a Collector hitting the floor.

"Right." Jacob replied, eyeing Garrus with confusion for a moment._ It was basically __your__ plan_... Still, there was no time for such thoughts, and Jacob moved to take aim at a Collector trying to vault a low wall, only for his shot to send it tumbling as it tore off it's arm at the elbow. Then, moving his hand back to the communicator, Jacob prepared to inform Michael of the situation.

_Hope they're doing better then us_...

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_Thanks to Abydos Jackson, for her strength._


	64. Chapter 64

"Covering fire!"

Michael slammed his shoulder into the doorway, Revenant rifle steadied against the doorway as he poured shots towards the defenders. To his right, Zaeed and Samara dropped onto one knee, Avenger and Vindicator spitting death, as they added their firepower to keep the opposing Collectors down.

They were close to their target, _incredibly_ close, the large door ahead was closed, but behind it, Michael knew the enemy bridge waited for them, as it had been once before.

The Collectors had erected low walls of dirt and rock in front of the door though, and a dozen of them had taken up position behind them defending the heart of their vessel. Yet they could get no reinforcement there, for the left and right were nothing but smooth walls of brown rock, there was only one way out, a doorway where the left side had been taken by Michael's team.

The defenders counter-attack had failed; the ground between Michael's team and the remaining Collectors becoming littered with dead husks after the Collectors attempt to slow down the team. Two of them were massive scions laying atop one another where they had been felled.

And now those were the targets for Miranda, Tali and Mordin as the three ran forward under the covering shots of the rest, the three figures ducking low as they advanced, before they threw themselves into the cover offered by the fallen scions.

"Commander, this is Jacob, respond." The radio crackled.

Michael ignored it, lining up his sights...and tearing one of the Collector's skull in two with a burst of fire before his gun clicked, heat sink spent. Ducking back behind cover, closely followed by Zaeed and Samara as all three moved to reload their guns, Michael turned his head away from the dust thrown up from the Collector return fire, smiling at their foolishness.

A moment later there was a boom as Tali's shotgun spoke from her improvised cover, swiftly followed by Mordin's and Miranda's pistols as they opened up at close range.

"Commander, this is Jacob, respond."

With a click, the new heat sink was inserted, and Michael ducked forth in time to see Tali's drone sweep past a Collector, a blast of energy from it making the insect stumble out of cover...where Tali's shotgun tore half its chest off. Two of its comrades drew a bead on her...only for them to fall to Miranda's unerring head-shots, leaving it to Mordin to pull the Quarian back down in cover.

And ahead...one of the Collectors rose, raised into the air as its body began to glow. _Great_... "Charge!"

Leading by example, Michael rushed forth. His Revenant attaching itself onto his back as his shotgun slipped into his right hand and his pistol in his left, the latter spewing shots at the Collectors on the left, forcing them to duck as best he could. Zaeed grunted as he tossed a grenade over their cover, the resulting inferno making three of them shriek as they bodies burnt away.

To his right, the others too broke cover, their shields flaring as the Collectors found their shots, but holding as the return fire slammed into the insects. Chiktikka's energy flared out, shearing flesh from bone from one of the Collectors, the owner herself making two of them stumble as her shotgun caught them both in its blast, who Samara dutifully finished off with twin volleys from her Vindicator rifle.

Miranda's entire body was aglow as she with a scream let her biotics tear into the still suspended Collector's glowing body with a detonation of biotic power. Two other Collectors leapt at her from their cover, weapons raised for a killing blow...and then Mordin's omni-tool's glow turned into a ball of fire, hurling both of them back as they shrieked with the agony of having their bodies burnt to nothing.

With a thump, the possessed Collector landed on the ground...only for it to fly back into the door it was guarding as Michael crashed feet-first into it. Grunting with the landing, he slammed his right foot back into its chest as it tried to get up, holstering his pistol even as he pushed his shotgun into its face, smirking. _Nice, a dramatic entrance isn't really the best tactic, Harbinger_...

There was no fear in the glowing eyes looking back at him, only malice. "_Shepard, resistance is useless_."

"Funny." Michael growled, jabbing the shotgun into the Collector's face. "I was about to say the same thing."

He pulled the trigger.

"Shepard, this is Jacob, _respond_!"

Gesturing for Tali to open the door, which she did in mere moments, the Quarian already having moved up to the controls, knowing speed was of the essence, Michael turned back to his communicator. "This is Shepard, we're at the bridge, Tali is hacking their systems for the IFF..." He glanced over, finding Tali in the circular chamber and working on the consoles dominating the centre of the room. "..._now_. What's your status?"

"We are pinned down just outside their Engineering, unable to advance. We have a clear shot at the controls, however, and Garrus and Legion have been able to keep them off them for now." _Good_ _improvisation_. "I can't tell how long we can keep it up, however, there's a lot of those things here."

"Hold as long as you can, then move to green pick-up zone." _Just a bit longer_... "We'll join you if able, otherwise we'll regroup back on the Normandy." Michael heard a hiss...and turned in time to see Collectors come running from where his team had come. "They've caught up! EDI, close the door!"

With a slam, the door they'd just come through slid shut, EDI's calm voice summarizing. "I have gained limited understanding of the Collector systems, with your permission, I'd like to overload the door controls and make manual opening impossible."

"Granted." Michael grunted, a grim pit in his stomach, then turned to the rest of the team. "Take up positions, they can still open the door by force." Even as the team started to move to take up cover among the slain Collectors, Michael turned back to his communicator as he eyed their suddenly sealed exit. _Trapped_..._no_, _there's_ _always_ _alternatives_, _find_ _them_. "EDI, I need the maps of the interior of the ship, now."

A second later the internal structure of the Collector cruiser appeared within Michael's visor as a glowing hologram...and he began to search.

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"Commander, this is Jacob, we are being flanked and are unable to continue."

Michael grimaced, he had expected something like that for the last fifteen tense minutes...yet it was still unappreciated news. "Roger that, retreat to green zone Zeta, my team might meet you half-way there." Turning his head, he looked back to Tali's slim figure as the Quarian kept working. "Any good news, Tali?"

"I have it...now." The Quarian announced, sounding somewhat breathless as she turned to face him. "They had a program trying to delete the IFF...was a close call."

He offered a grin. "Everything is right now." Turning back to the situation at hand, the grin turned somewhat grim. "EDI, what's the situation beyond the door?"

It was a silly question. Even as Michael watched, the door buckled in the middle as something vast slammed into it, as it had for the last four minutes, slowly but surely tearing down doors whose thickness matched the _bulkheads_ of most vessels.

"Surveillance on that side of the door shows sixty Collectors lead by one 'possessed' Collector, forty standard husks, three scions and one Praetorian...the later is currently demolishing the doors. I cannot say that that is all, though." EDI calmly responded. "If you wish, I calculate that a concentrated blast from the Normandy's weapons has a forty-two percent chance of causing casualties among them without harming your team."

"No." Michael retorted, reaching towards his back. "You concentrate on slowing down the Collector's attempt to overload their reactor." He pulled out the Cain. He _had_ considered taking the flame-thrower due to the close spaces in the ship, and also the missile launcher for its versatility. But in the end, the mass-accelerated round of a small high-explosive shot, the combination becoming something akin to a mobile nuke launcher, had won out, the reasoning being that anything he didn't need _it_ to kill with, he could kill with a normal weapon.

_Never imagined this kind of target though_..._maybe I should tell a mining-company_? "Everyone, take cover and cover your ears...there might be a slight ring." He braced the weapon against his shoulder as he took aim at the buckling doors...

Only to turn the aim slightly to the left.

A squeeze of the trigger...and he was flying off his feet as the world turned into yellow light and dust.

The cry came from a great distance. "Michael!" _Tali_...

He grunted, irritated with himself as he tossed the now spent heavy-weapon aside. _Take only what you need, now it's time to __run_. "I'm fine, you all know the plan, _move_!" Rolling back onto his feet, Michael drew his Revenant and ran straight into the great cloud of dust the blast had created.

First there was nothing but the thudding of their feet...and then Michael moved through the hole made in the wall, his feet splashing as they met water. _At least I __hope__ it's water_! Ignoring the thought, Michael turned right, blindly following the path he'd mapped out with the information EDI had supplied...though happy when he escaped the cloud of dust to see the path ahead.

The corridor wasn't as large as the ones the Collectors usually had, and far more circular, like an oversized sewage-pipe...which it more or less _was_. The floor was covered in a few inches of some green liquid that smelled slightly of sulphur. Here and there a lump of red...Michael wouldn't call it _meat_, but it sure was organic by the smell of it...lay, clogs in the filth that was the cruiser's arteries.

"What a wonderful _smell_ you've discovered..." Miranda muttered, the woman hot in his heels as the troop jogged forth.

"_What_ smell?" Tali snickered. "Me and my deactivated olfactory filters can't smell a thing."

Miranda actually _laughed_, nearly making Michael stumble, _Mordin_ was the one who replied though. "Smell not discomforting, theories to its origin, _are_."

"Can we push forward? Or does everyone want to stay and smell the sewer some more?" Zaeed growled, making Michael chuckle.

"You heard the man, get moving!"

A moan...and Michael slid to a halt as the liquid before him rose...revealing the drenched body of a husk as it focused its glowing eyes upon him, clawed hands reaching up...

His foot came down, _hard_, and the creature's skull shattered, the sound echoing through the tunnel.

An echo greeted by _more_ moans...the liquid before Michael nearly bubbling as more husks appeared, the creatures slowly rising from it, eyes soulless and bodies foul. Michael could only groan as Samara called out. "They're behind us!"

"Biotics and shotguns to the front! Assault rifles to cover the back!" Michael shouted even as he kicked a charging husk in the chest, sending it flying back the others. "Forward!"

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"Incoming!" Jacob shouted, jumping over a low wall before turning in a crouch, his shotgun opening the chest of a charging Collector even as the source of his warning, a stream of Collector shots, tore through the air over him. A few of the shots struck Grunt, but the Krogan simply growled in amusement as he slammed his head into a charging husk, shattering its skull.

"There's the shuttle, move or be left behind, you slugs!" Jack shouted, the human bolting for the shuttle as it hovered by the entrance to the cruiser, the blackness of space throwing its white silhouette in stark relief. Jumping into it, Jack spun, her pistol in hand as her other came aglow with biotic energy. "I said _move_!" A second later Garrus, who had been standing next to Jacob, shouted out in irritation as he was pulled off his feet, the Turian sailed through the air, only to land in an undignified heap in front of Jack.

Hissing in anger, Garrus jumped to his feet, eyes ablaze as he glared at Jack. "We aren't leaving the rest stranded, calm down!"

"He told us to-_gack_."

Jack's protest was cut short as Garrus gripped her by the throat, his eyes only slightly narrowed, _calm_. "They are near, we _wait_." A slight squeeze of his claws. "And don't toss _me_ around, _ever_."

Jack's reply was a heated glare, making Jacob roll his eyes. _Great, now we're fighting each other_...? "You two, get down and get fighting!"

At least the two had the sense to obey, both taking the cover offered by the shuttle's doorway, their guns blazing at the pursuing Collectors. Jack couldn't help but to protest though. "Shit! They're not coming this way, if we get away now we can pick them up at another zone!"

"Shut your mouth! He'll _be_ here!" Garrus retorted...and once more the two were glaring at one another.

_Oh for_... Jacob didn't have time to reprimand the two though, as part of the roof suddenly caved in, making him leap to the side with a shout.

A curse...and Michael appeared out of the dust, his armour covered in green muck and pieces of husk as with a blazing machine gun he tore into Jacob's pursuers. Around him the rest of his team were getting to their feet, all equally filthy, and not getting better as green filth poured down from the hole in the ceiling and onto them as they struggled to move away.

Garrus was chuckling at Jack...but that was barely heard over Michael's shout. "Everyone into the shuttle, _now_!"

The team needn't be told twice.

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"IFF secured, a Collector cruiser destroyed and no casualties." The Illusive man summed up, almost sounding..._pleased_. "Well done, Commander."

Michael kept his face neutral, only offering a nod. It was good to hear you were appreciated, a far cry from the Council's reactions, in fact, but he had no illusions about the Illusive man, the man _was_ pleased over the results, but that was it.

"I was surprised when I read your report, it was a very bold decision, given the opposition." The man said, though there was no hint of criticism, Michael sensed a question in it.

He smirked, for once feeling as if he had the upper hand in their exchange. "Some things can't be calculated, experience counts for more then one might think, and the biggest gun in the universe won't help you if I bash your head in with a rock. We stood a good chance right from the start." _Could have done without that slime getting stuck in my armour for hours afterwards though_..._and the cruiser exploding moments after we landed within the Normandy_...

As if reading his mind, the Illusive man took a sip from his drink before speaking. "A shame about the Collector vessel, there was little left of the wreckage, and what there was has mostly been looted by various vessels that were there at the engagement...my people are working on recovering items of worth."

Michael shrugged, not really interested. "Whatever floats your boat, _my_ people are currently installing the IFF. And EDI's set the course for Illium for repairs, even outmanoeuvred, the Collector ship did a number on the Normandy."

"Yes, about that..." The Illusive man frowned, if only slightly. "Are you _sure_ it is wise to leave the AI without shackles? It _is_, of course, your call."

To be fair, Michael had wondered that himself. Still, he felt calm when he nodded. "EDI proved herself more then once in this engagement, even if the fact that she _deserves_ the freedom isn't persuasive to you..."_When did I start thinking __that_? _Stupid Tali and her influence_... He nearly snickered at himself. "...her increased ability to multi-task and increase efficiency should be."

"As I said..." The Illusive man took a drag from his cigarette, utterly calm, making Michael briefly wonder if he wasn't _less_ emotional then the AI they were discussing. "...it's your call, though I admit that I'm impressed, and that you will need every edge you can find if you are to beat the Collectors."

"Yeah...about that..." Michael rubbed the back of his neck, suddenly feeling awkward. It wasn't as if he cared about Cerberus or their funds, or that he felt as if he _owed_ them anything, he had _more_ then paid for himself...yet the idea of what he was about to ask didn't sit all that well with him none the less.

"Yes, Shepard?" The Illusive man prodded, patiently waiting, not looking in the least curious.

"Well...we won by virtue of _surprise_ in this battle..._everything_ else was in their favour...when we enter the Omega four relay we won't have that advantage...and I'm pretty sure they'll be waiting for us." Spit it out, man! "So I have been talking to my team about various contacts and ideas they have, and have quite the list of improvements that could be made..." Michael hesitated. "So I was thinking, while dry-docked in Illium for repairs, we could perform these upgrades on the ship to get a better edge in the next engagement...they're _expensive_ though."

"Forward the list to me and I'll clear the funds." Was the simple reply...and Michael blinked, making one of the Illusive man's eyebrows arch for the briefest of moments. "Surprised, Shepard?"

"Actually..._yes_." Michael replied. "I mean, you've already spent a _lot_ of money on me, the Normandy and the rest of the team...and it all is on a great risk."

"No more then what I've gained from it in other means." The Illusive man diplomatically retorted. "And the risk is worth it. I told you, Cerberus is _dedicated_ to the preservation of humanity, as such, _no_ price is too high if it ensures you succeed with defeating the Collectors and the Reapers. You want the best? I'll get you the best."

"I suppose I _shouldn't_ be surprised..." Michael muttered, annoyed with how swiftly the upper hand he had felt he had in the conversation slipped away. _Wish the Council was this helpful_..._say what you will about Cerberus, they do far more then give you a pat on the back_. "Still..." He straightened, forcing himself to look the Illusive man straight into his strange eyes as he offered an honest nod. "...thank you."

The man offered a respectful nod back. "And thank you."

With that, the communications were cut, and Michael turned, pushing the annoying feeling of respect for the other man aside as a grin appeared on his face at the sight of the ground team waiting for him, several of them with bottles in hand, Miranda already swaying a bit, even. "Alright people, let's get this party _started_!"

Again, the team needn't be told twice.

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_Thanks to Abydos Jackson for all her assistance._


	65. Chapter 65

_This is it_.

Tali felt nervous, more nervous then _ever_, more then even at the battle of the Citadel, and there they had fought for the fate of the _galaxy_.

It really was, when you thought about it like that, silly.

She couldn't help it though.

She was walking behind Kelly and Garrus...and considering the way the former was more or less _attached_ to the later, these two, bringing up the rear of the people heading for the airlock...wouldn't get far before finding somewhere more private. Still, despite having no intention of joining the large group of people about to leave for their last shore-leave, Tali found herself following them.

They hadn't been at Illium for long. With Cerberus money, Michael had hired the best of workers the Asari planet had to offer, both to repair the damage it had suffered, as well as installing the long list of upgrades suggested by nearly half the crew. The team and crew had helped out a little at the start...but Michael had soon shooed them off, telling them that they should take the opportunity offered by the week of shore-leave their damaged ride more or less demanded.

He _had_ actually taken his own advice...sort of. Several days in a row had ended with him falling asleep on the couch, head in Tali's lap and the datapad full of different tactical simulations and the like still in his hand. Despite them both working it had been...nice, the pace peaceful and...enjoyable, despite Garrus' constant nagging that they should take the opportunity to enjoy the night-life of the planet while they had the chance.

Yet now the repairs and upgrades were nearly complete...and Tali had decided, with not a little trepidation, that there could be no more waiting or postponing. Either she acted...or she would regret not doing so for the rest of her life, however short it might turn out to be.

She had already made the necessary...arrangements. Mordin had been teasing but helpful, and Tali's systems were _swimming_ with all manner of medicines to strengthen her immune systems. Some of them had even been quite...invasive, _painful_, even...yet Mordin's suggestion of using some sort of human contraception to keep her from having a lingering source of foreign matter in her had been decisively dismissed by her. It might have struck the scientist as strange, but Tali could not accept, not even for a _moment_, any piece of inorganic matter between them, she had lived with that for _years_, _always_ with a barrier...there would be _no_ such thing this time. Besides, the pain was gone the next day, replaced by...anticipation.

For with that...she was ready.

Casting a nervous glance back, she instantly caught sight of Michael. The man was shaking his head as he stood by the galactic map, or rather, where the map used to be, the hologram of the galaxy replaced by blackness and a few dots of various size and colour as he conversed with EDI's hologram over some detail or another.

She smiled at the sight. _Always at work_... The smile turned into a slight smirk, a smirk coloured by the butterflies in her stomach. _I think it can wait this time, though_... Turning her head back to Garrus' and Kelly's backs, she managed to clear her throat and keep her voice steady as she spoke. "Hey, I'll catch up with you later, I...uhh...forgot something back in Engineering."

The couple stopped, but didn't turn as they looked at one another, though Tali couldn't see their faces, she got the distinct impression they were amused with her. "Did you now?" Garrus asked. "A shame...but there's no rush to catch up, take your time to find..._it_."

_Oh Keelah_... Tali smacked her visor, blushing furiously. Kelly didn't make things better, her tone that of a conspirator. "Oh yes, one mustn't rush around looking for it, take your time..."

Suppressing the urge to kick their backsides, Tali just chuckled as she shook her head, in a way amused with their teasing. "Just...get out of here!"

Laughing, the pair obeyed, quietly moving into the airlock of the Normandy and whatever adventure awaited them, leaving Tali alone, alone with..._him_.

Slowly, almost reluctantly, she turned to face him, looking over the path between the Command-post and the cockpit, it suddenly looked so far away...yet not far enough, her thundering heart told her.

She began to walk, her legs moving of their own volition, the rest of her body throbbing with equal parts anticipation, yearning, fear and nervousness. Her mind was no better, the week full of nervousness of fumbling, of messing up, surfacing...as did the fears of what Michael would think, what could happen, what it all signified, what the future held...it all rushed forth at the same time, causing nothing but white noise in her brain, droning out any attempts to _think_.

Then she was standing just behind him, just below the set of stairs leading up to the galaxy map.

Michael had a smile in his voice, his back turned to her as he spoke. "Yes, manoeuvring will be vital when we enter the relay, can you calculate a good set to avoid engagements from various angles and relay them to Joker when he gets back? I..."A slight shift in his stance, his voice going lower as he turned his head, sensing her. "...would appreciate that." He fully turned, softly smiling down at her. "Tali."

Silence, heart-squeezing silence, taking her breath away.

And then he stepped down those few stairs, hands finding hers, holding them between the two of them as he looked down at them. "I thought you were going with the others...you want to...stay here for a while?" Another soft smile.

"Yes." _Forever_. Tali cleared her throat, suddenly finding herself shy as she looked away. "I mean...we're soon to leave port and...well you might already know I've been to see Mordin..." _How am I supposed to say this_...? "...and...we're soon to leave and..." Michael's left hand freed itself, finding the bottom of her visor, making her look at him.

His smile was so gentle it almost _hurt_ to look at. "EDI...make yourself scarce for a few hours."

"Yes, Commander." Tali barely heard the answer, her eyes wide. _Hours_!

No words managed to escape her lips though, she could only keep staring at Michael as he, still holding her left hand in his right, turned her so they together could walk into the waiting elevator.

A thump of the door closing, Michael's free hand hitting the controls...and Tali felt them moving upwards.

Turning her head to stare at the door ahead, Tali felt her throat squeeze shut, her heart thudding painfully loud in her chest. _Soon_ _we_..._we'll_... She was _shaking_...and she _couldn't_ stop it.

The hand holding hers tightened, squeezed, fingers interlocking with hers...and Tali took a trembling breath as she forced herself to look at him.

Michael had been protesting before, he had looked nervous at the thought of what she had asked for, for many reasons...but now that was _gone_. Instead he was meeting her gaze, his smile reassuring, _happy_...and Tali found herself taking a deep breath, finding some reassurance in the sight. _I can do this, with him_..._I_ _can_ _do_ _this_...

Then the elevator stopped, the door opening...and Tali, feeling as if she was dreaming...let herself be led into Michael's room.

Only then did Michael look a little awkward as he turned to face her, slowly disentangling his hand from hers as he nodded towards the door to her right. "So...erm...I'll have to take a shower to...you know...make myself less...infectious..."

Tali managed a nervous chuckle. "A shower's not really enough, you know..."

"I know." Michael replied, a little too fast, shifting where he stood. "I mean...I _know_...but Mordin gave me some...stuff too, soaps...kind of burned when I tried them..." A chuckle. "Which means it works, I guess."

"Y-yeah...sounds right..." Tali managed, swallowing hard, she too shifting where she stood. _Keelah, I have to wait for him_? _I_..._Keelah_.

Apparently reading her mind, Michael moved a little closer, that reassuring, and _incredibly_ gentle smile on his lips again. "I won't be long...watch the fishes..." A finger at the bottom of her visor...and he turned, the door to his bathroom silently sliding shut behind him.

_S-so_..._really going through with this, Tali_? _Not backing out_? _There's still time, you could run down and out of the ship before he gets out_... A nervous chuckle escaped her as she turned, eyes moving to look at Michael's aquarium even as she walked down the few steps to the main part of his cabin. _Watch the fishes, huh_? _Like that could stop me from drowning in my own nervous sweat_..._Keelah, I hope it doesn't make me smell or_..._don't think about that_!

To Tali's surprise, some of the smaller fishes turned as they swam, congregating in front of her, heads facing her, almost as if they were looking _back_. _How_ _curious_... She moved her head to the right...and smiled in surprise when the fish moved to follow her. _Ohhh_..._it's my eyes, they follow the glow_... Giggling, she moved her head to the left, first slow, the faster...and the fish followed. "Hehe..."

"Always knew they liked you."

Tali jumped and turned, hands held tightly together in front of her chest as the nervousness she had nearly forgotten about for a blessed second returned tenfold. The sight before her did nothing to help matters. _Keelah_... Michael's hair was still wet, his clothes gone, replaced by a black silk robe held together by an equally black silk rope around his waist, the cloth clinging to his shoulders. He slowly, on bare feet, walked down to her, still smiling. "I guess it's impossible not to..." A hand moved forth...and Tali shuddered as it brushed the bottom of her helmet, despite being unable to feel it.

_I-I'm going to feel the touch of someone else soon_..._be __able__ to touch_... The thought nearly made her unable to speak, emotions making her body shake. "Y-you ch-charmer..."

"You're nervous..." Michael muttered, and if her wide eyes had been capable of it at the moment, Tali would have rolled them at him. "...come..." A gentle touch at the slope of her back...and Tali found herself guided to the foot of the bed._ The bed we'll_..._use_..._that_..._Keelah_. "...sit."

She obeyed, not knowing what else to do, it was difficult to..._think_. Taking a shuddering breath, she forced herself to look at the man sitting down next to her. "I'm...sorry, it's just that...I-I don't know how this is supposed to go, I've never..._reading_ and _doing_ are two separate things and I'm just not...where does one start?"

Silence, Michael just looking at her, not staring, nor smiling, just _looking_.

For once, Tali couldn't read what he was thinking.

_He must think I'm a moron_...

Then he reached out...

Tali's eyes widened, her hands digging into the bed beneath as she stiffened, watching him, unable to comprehend it, as his fingers slid over the underside of her mask...

_He's going to see_...

She took a painfully deep breath, body shaking.

His hands found the edge of her hood...and his eyes remained soft and fixed on hers as he pulled it back.

_I have to see the look on his face, I have to see if he gets happy or_..._disappointed_.

She tried to take another breath, but her lungs refused to breathe in...and she closed her eyes, squeezing them shut in panic.

With surprising ease, Michael's hands found the latches on each side of her helmet...and they clicked open.

_Keelah, no, no_..._yes_..._no_...

His hands moved down...and the latches between her neck and the helmet came off, starting at the neck, his hands opened them one after the other...

_Look at him_!

She forced her eyes to open...but only managed to squint...and her right hand shot up to press against her visor, fingers splitting so she could look at the man between them...

Her breathing was erratic, struggling as her face burned, body tingling.

_I'm going to die_...

Then a click...and she squeezed her eyes shut once more even as she gasped, feeling the back of her helmet fall off, dropping onto the bed with a thud.

She could feel it, her thick quills, crimson red with bone white tips, grazing the spot between her shoulder-blades as they were freed from their bond...and shuddered with the feel, the feel of _air_ around them...

And then...the feel of _hands_, hands _on_ them..._around_ them... Before her, there was a sound escaping Michael, a strange _sigh_...though it was almost lost as she suddenly moaned, unable to contain herself as she shuddered, pressing her head back against the caressing hands.

_He's touching them, my quills, __me_... Again, she moaned, the thought electrifying. Never had another person done so, even as a _child_, they had worn suits not to get her sick until she was older, and when she got older, there was none left with an _interest_ to see, never mind _touch_, her. And now, for the first time in her _life_, she felt someone else...

_Look at him_...

She couldn't obey herself, only gasp, her entire body tingling as the hands slowly slid over her quills...and gripped onto her visor that by now was only held up by the hand she still had holding it.

_I have to see his face, his reaction_...

She _couldn't_ though, she could only whimper as Michael's one hand pulled her hand aside while the other slowly pulled the last barrier aside.

Silence.

Tali couldn't breathe, couldn't speak. Instead she squeezed her eyes shut, shaking, pathetic...and felt tears run down her cheeks, from fear or happiness, she couldn't tell.

Then _warmth_ touched them, skin, _hands_...pushing the tears away...brushing beneath her eyes, making the tears stop as she shuddered, mouth half-open as her mind soared with the _amazing_ sensation.

She knew humans were warmer then Quarians, though even though it wasn't by much on paper...the _feeling_ of it was _overwhelming_...it was as if there was a fire just beneath his skin, passing onto her, making her sigh with pleasure...

And that was even before the full impact of the fact that another person, _he_, was touching her face, her _free_ face. She took a deep breath...and air, _real_ air, not air coming through the filter in her helmet, filled her lungs. She found her lips trembling as she took another deep breath, smelling the air...and _him_.

_K-keelah_...

It was something different, entirely. She _could_ smell things in her suit, but it was nothing to what she now got a scent of. It was dark...musky...and made her head spin.

The hands moved, yet never left her face as they moved over her large and closed eyes, her backwards sloping forehead, her small nose...making the pale purple flush wherever they moved. Then they moved down, cupping her small chin, then sliding along the length of her long jaw-line sloping up towards her quills, making her skin tingle wherever they went.

She opened her mouth...and her small lips quivered as she struggled with the words. "W-what...a-are you doing...?"

She opened her eyes...and met Michael's gaze without her visor on for the first time. There was no surprise in his eyes at the sight of her slanted eyes, of her large green irises and slitted pupils...no disgust either, nor fear or dislike, nothing of what she had feared.

There was just a _softness_, his eyes fixed on hers, not looking away for a _moment_.

Then, he spoke, his voice a low, almost reverent, whisper. "Memorizing..."

_Keela_-

Tali didn't even finish the thought.

One moment he was whispering such a wonderful word...the next she had her hands in his hair, her lips on his, frantically kissing him as best as her limited experience allowed, and now _ravenous_ instincts, told her to.

A surprised gasp escaped the man, making Tali moan in return as she felt his hot breath against her, the simple feel of skin against skin was making her head swim...and when he suddenly started to kiss her _back_...Tali's hands dropped down onto his shoulders simply to stop herself from collapsing there and then.

_Keelah_..._not in a clean room, not with a Quarian, not for a reason but love_..._Keelah_... The thought simply made Tali's hands shoot up again, finding the back of his head, fingers gripping into what little hair his haircut allowed as a fresh surge of energy poured through her. _Taboo_... She _squealed_...and was suddenly atop Michael, hands on the side of his face, holding it fast as she tried to kiss him even _harder_...

His hands were sliding up and down her back, then suddenly gripped some of her quills, tugging at them...and Tali moaned as her head was pulled back while her lower lip was suddenly caught in Michael's mouth as he gave it a gentle bite. _Ke_..._Kee_..._I_..._so_ _warm_..._must_..._I_ _must_..._have_ _to_... "Michaeeel...I...Michaaaeeel..." It wasn't words, it was _moans_, if she hadn't been so dizzy with pleasure, Tali would have blushed.

"Hmmm?" The man mumbled, making Tali shiver at the level of control he still had as he _slowly_ released her lip from its _wonderful_ prison. "Yes?" There was a _teasing_ tone in his voice, a tone driving her _mad_.

"Must...I must..." Tali gasped, out of breath as she found her hips grinding against his robed body. A low moan. "...I _must_..."

"Yes?" Michael's hands found the base of her quills, holding them firm and forcing her to look at him. He was flushed around the neck, his chest heaving against hers, but there was a _frustrating_ level of control in his smirk as he held her gaze. "You must what?"

Tali wanted to hold it back, deny him, to chip away at that control...but couldn't, her voice a whimper. "I must take my suit off..._now_..."

She didn't let him answer, one moment she was on top of him, kissing him as if she had been dying of thirst and he was the oasis, the next she was on her feet, hands darting up to find the first buckles, zips and locks to her suit.

She had feared this moment, taking the suit off took _time_...and she didn't want to ruin the mood...yet right now all she felt was frustration as the pulsating need within her ordered her to _tear_ the suit off...

That's when she felt his breath against her neck, his arms around her waist...and froze. "Wha..." The question wouldn't quite leave her lips as the man's hands moved to the front of her waist...and unbuckled the clasp that held the skirt of cloth attached to her hips. "...are you..." She shivered, unable to move, to even _breathe_, as the hands moved up...and slowly tugged loose the cloth part of her suit. "...d-doing...?"

"Didn't think you were the _only_ one studying, did you?" Michael answered, a smirk in his voice, breath brushing against her ear...and Tali shuddered where she stood, eyelids fluttering close. She felt his hands on the back of her long neck, felt the protective rings fall off, one after the other...and her mouth opened in a silent moan as Michael's lips found the thin rubber beneath. "It's faster this way...and more enjoyable...turn around..."

Gasping, Tali turned...and shivered at the sight of Michael kneeling, the man gently raising her right foot...and opening her boot, gently pulling it off, then put it back, moving to the left...while she just stared, swallowing. "Y-you _could_ d-do it f-faster..."

Tossing her other boot aside, the man slid to his feet, a hungry look in his eyes as he moved even closer...only to make Tali gasp as he grabbed her shoulders and spun her around, his hands moving to the armoured plates attacked to her hips, the slow touch electric as he muttered into her ear. "You want me to stop...?"

"Nooo..." Was all Tali managed, her right hand moving up and back, gripping the back of Michael's head as his hands methodically stripped her.

Armour, hidden computers for the suit, padding, piece by piece her suit came off, making her breathing more and more erratic as she pushed backwards, feeling Michael behind her, feeling the warmth of him getting more and more distinct as the barriers disappeared...

She couldn't speak any more, her head lolling back, pleasure coursing through her even as she stiffened in a mixture of trepidation and anticipation. She remembered her nightmares when she was a teen, of her taking her suit off...only for the skin beneath to peel off with it...many a time had she woken up screaming with the horrifying image in her head. Apparently many Quarians underwent such periods of fright, of feeling trapped...yet it was impossible not to remember it as Michael slowly pulled and tugged at the final barrier...

A throaty sound escaped her, her eyes rolling back as Michael's hands ended up under her thin suit, gripping...and slowly pulling it down as he knelt...

And then Tali felt it...the feel of her body no longer touching anything, _exposed_...

Tali couldn't help but to look down, to lift her feet in turn as Michael pulled the suit off her...though her eyes weren't looking at that.

_I_..._this_ _is_ _me_... She had _never_ seen herself naked, sure, she had seen _parts_, when repairing her suit and such...but never in its entirety. She had seen _pictures_ of naked Quarians back in school...but those had been so..._alien_, they hadn't felt like her, for how _could_ you identify with such pictures, when everyone around you were defined by their suits, when _that_ was what a Quarian was? _Me_... The pale purple skin moved with her as she shifted, but she wouldn't quite believe it. _Me_...

She couldn't help it...her hands, which had been powerless through the last five minutes...moved up. Touching her hips, her legs...then sliding up, up over the gentle curve of her hip and then further in at the deeper curve that was her waist...testing the skin as she felt the sharp upward curve of her ribs... _I always thought I'd feel more_..._rough_.

Then she felt him, the cloth Michael wore was as soft as a whisper as he pressed up against her back, his mouth brushing her bare neck as his hands slid around her waist, the warmth of him..._intoxicating_. As was his low voice. "My _god_, you're beautiful..."

"I.." Tali managed a smirk even as she craned her neck, wanting more of his lips against it. "...thought you didn't believe in god any more..."

A low chuckle, Michael's left hand finding her quills, pulling her head to the side as his lips found the point between her neck and jaw...and Tali could do nothing but gasp. "Some things...can change your mind."

"I'm d-divine inspira-" Tali smirked as she tried to gasp out the question...and then felt his right hand move up over her stomach...to find her breast.

She squirmed free, turned...and pushed him _hard_, knocking him on top of the bed before dropping down next to him on her knees, bending over him as she _tore_ at the collar of his robe...only to growl in frustration as the surprisingly tough material refused to give. Something of a groan escaped the man, his voice a gasp. "Belt..."

Tali's hands were faster then even _she_ could follow as they flew down, tugging the belt open and parting the robe.

_Oh_...

Tali's frenzy stopped, the woman going still as she sat down, legs to her sides, eyes wide as her right hand, not really receiving any commands from her emptied mind, reached out...

Michael groaned.

_Keelah_...

It was _not_ like she thought it would be...it was warmer, _harder_, yet _not_, there was a difference between the surface and the inside, like a heated iron bar wrapped in silk.

A _big_ iron bar...

She blinked, unable to release him, yet suddenly found a spike of fear in her gut, then horror...and then..._disappointment_.

"I..." She blinked, swallowed. "...I won't be able to..." Whimpering, she looked away, the disappointment growing, a black cloud filling her world. "...it won't fit..."

And Michael, not noticing her mindset, with his attention elsewhere, chuckled. "You know just what to say to a guy..."

"_No_." Tali hissed in anger, though it instantly disappeared under her sorrow. She forced herself to look at him...and found his eyes widen in surprise at the sudden wetness in them. "I...it _won't_..." She shook her head, looking away. "...I...Quarian's are smaller in build, and I'm a _small_ Quarian...and _you_...it _won't_..."

Michael sat up, shifting closer, making Tali look away even further. _And here comes the speech about me being inexperienced, of trust, I'll_..._probably_ _give_ _in_... Michael's tone however, was _teasing_. "You mean to tell me the Collector-killing little Quarian _princess_..." _Oh you're not_... Tali's grip on him tightened. "...is _scared_ of a little piece of flesh?" _You_ _are_!

Growling in defiance, Tali found herself pushed over the edge. She had been frustrated for _years_...only to now be defeated by herself...and then the man had the audacity to _tease_ her!

The growl went darker...and Tali pushed the man onto his back once more as she swung her right leg over him, her grip shifting as she straddled him. She glared at the man...who smirked back...making her hiss through clenched teeth. "If I get internal injuries, I'm blaming _you_..."

Michael chuckled and opened his mouth to reply...only to go completely still as Tali felt him against her...

_Warm_...

Her breathing was swift and shallow, her eyes were _fixed_ on his, unwilling and _unable_ to look elsewhere as she felt the warm tip press up against her.

_Okay_..._slow_ _now_...

She tried pushing down a little...and gritted her teeth at the..._strange_ sensation. It didn't hurt...but neither was it pleasurable, it was just..._strange_. Below her, Michael's fingers dug into the mattress, the man shaking with effort, despite not doing anything._ He's holding himself back_... Tali felt a smug sense of satisfaction at that, mixed with warm affection...and a great desire to try and tease him.

Yet she found herself unable to do so, her legs were no longer obeying her commands, but acting automatically as they slowly moved her down, forcing more and more of him inside, as if slowly _spearing_ her. _Keelah_..._hurts_ _a_ _bit_..._calm_ _down_.

The pain faded though, as if simply calming down was enough to stop it, instead the strange sensation returned a hundredfold, it was almost..._tickling_...

Tickling all over...

Very..._warm_...tickling...

Tali gasped...and felt Michael's hips against her as she came down. For a moment she just sat there, eyes wide, unable to believe it, staring at Michael...who was staring right back.

Then his eyes went soft. "See?" A mutter, his hands moving over her legs, making them tingle, before settling on her hips. "Take it slow now..."

"O-okay..." Tali managed a weak nod, hands carefully sliding up to rest on Michael's chest. She felt so..._strange_, it was weird and...there was an odd _pulse_ within her, a pulse making her shiver and feel warm at the same time. She _feared_ moving...

_Just do it_... Holding Michael's gaze for reassurance, Tali shifted.

_Keelah_!

For a moment she nearly collapsed, her body paralysed by the jolt shooting through her spine.

_Maybe I should_...

She couldn't help herself, her body moving of its own volition.

This time she groaned, the jolt recognised as pleasure, pleasure so great she...couldn't wrap her mind around it.

_Keelah_...

She stared at Michael...and then found a giggle escape her lips...a giggle swiftly replaced by a gasp as she, unable to help herself, moved...and then again, and _again_.

"Be careful, you might...ah...need some time..._ah_...before..._God_!"

Tali barely heard Michael's words, her eyes squeezing shut as she rolled her hips and arched her back, lights dancing under her eyelids as she moved.

_Keelah_...

Rolling her hips.

_Keelah_...

Rising up.

_Keelah_...

Then coming down.

_Keelah_!

Again, harder.

_Keelah_!

Harder.

_Keela-_!

Faster.

_Kee_-!

Faster!

_Ke_-!

Harder!

_Ke_-!

Harder!

_Keelah_!

She collapsed, the world turning white, then dark. Her body shuddered, limp and dead to the world as she just lay there, gasping for air, a warm chest against her face the only reminder that Michael was there.

Silence.

Then his voice, a pleased mutter. "You _really_ needed that one, huh?"

"Mpfhw wlfhy." Tali replied, making the chest she lay on shake as Michael chuckled, she frowned into it, trying to make her forked tongue and thin lips move as they should. "Iwkhda frewl..."

His hands moved over her back. "_That_ good, was it?"

She managed a nod, then forced her brain to work. "I..._wow_...I...never imagined...I...that was _great_..." She sighed, nuzzling deeper into Michael's chest.

"Sure...for a first five minutes." _Huh_? She blinked, for her it had felt like a small eternity, as if time had stopped. _Five_ _minutes_? _Can't_ _be_... Though the smirk looking up at her as she pulled back to look at the man seemed to confirm it. "You don't think I'm done with you, do you?"

"I..." Tali's eyes widened.

And then Michael's hands moved over her legs, gripping her as he rolled them over...only for his hands to slide up to the back of her neck, gripping the base of her quills as he held her gaze. Again, his tone, _teasing_. "Ready for a _proper_ round?"

Unwilling to just surrender, and now with all uncertainties, and therefore her fears, gone...Tali smirked back, making the man blink as she locked her ankles around his waist. "We have all night...give me your best shot."

8

8

8

_Thanks to Abydos Jackson for enduring this one._


	66. Chapter 66

"This _really_ isn't necessary, you know..."

Michael grimaced, irritated with how..._blasé_ Tali currently was about her condition. "You're sick, you stay in bed, _period_." Carefully putting down the bowl of soup supplied by Mess Sergeant Gardner onto his desk, mostly because the towel underneath could only keep him from burning his hands for so long, Michael carefully made sure the green skin atop the soup was intact. Because as long as it was it was edible since Tali could push her eating straw through the skin and that way avoid _more_ foreign matter in her system...something Michael was very keen on at the moment.

Lying underneath the covers of his bed, now back in her suit, Tali's silvery – _green, they're green_... – eyes followed his every movement with what he _knew_ was amusement. "I told you, the infection is _very_ minor, _surprisingly_ minor...give me to the end of the day, with the medicines I've _already_ taken, and I'll be in perfect shape by tomorrow." She shifted where she lay, moving to get up."In fact, I could go and get some _work_ done instead of lying here like a crippled-"

"_Bed_, stay _put_." Michael growled, making the Quarian drop back down, a, what he now knew to be a delicate and webbed, eyebrow no doubt raised. With his hands now sufficiently cooled, Michael grabbed the bowl once more and crossed the distance to her, gently putting the soup down on the small dresser next to the bed before sitting himself down next to the Quarian. "There, eat up, it's apparently good when you're sick...or so Garrus claims."

Tali eyed the soup for a moment, then looked back to Michael. "You had Gardner put it together, didn't you?" Her tone slightly amused.

"Err...yes?" Michael cocked his head to the side, forcing a smile. "Come on, all he did was take it out of its package and heat it up...even _he_ can't mess that up."

"Michael...the soup's supposed to be _cold_." Tali snickered, and all the louder when Michael's cheeks flushed. _Son of a_... Her hand stopped him from turning his head away though, Tali's voice holding a smile. "I'll just wait for it to cool off..." Then...a _smirk_. "Besides, I could use a little rest...didn't get _any_ sleep."

Michael _would_ have smirked, or chuckled, at that before...and yesterday he would have done that without a second thought. _Now_ however...he found himself taking a deep breath, a heat in his eyes as he looked down at the woman, images of last night flickering before his mind, making his eyes nearly glow with a..._hunger_.

And Tali was looking straight back at him, breathing shortening as she returned the wanting in his eyes in kind.

It was...strange. Michael had never figured anything would change between the two after their night together, he _already_ loved her, why _would_ anything change? That had partly been the reason why he had had such an easy time not feeling a need for sex with her, for, in the end, it wasn't important. Yet...that wasn't the case. Back on earth, nothing had changed when he had slept with any of his _many_ girlfriends...then again, he had never felt _anything_ for _any_ of them.

With Tali it had been more then just a physical release, it had been love, need, passion and a deep reserve of _hunger_...that had gone into it. The mere memory of it...it made Michael's knees a little weak, his gaze betraying the shift in their relationship as it tried to burn away the cover over Tali's small frame.

It was odd, at first he had felt himself in such control. _Despite_ the _amazing_ sight of Tali without her suit...for she really had been, so strange to touch, to _behold_, yet still familiar, _desirable_...he had stayed in control, for _her_ sake, tried to ease her into the change, go easy on her and give her what she wanted. That had...swiftly changed after Tali had regained control of herself, he had found himself drowning in her, in the _need_...over and over and over again...

He had been surprised by her endurance...not to mention his _own_. Tali had been very accurate about not having had any sleep that night...in fact, the night's exertions were _still_ felt as quite a few of Michael's muscles ached ever so slightly from the long workout...

Next to him, Tali visibly shuddered, a hand lazily moving up to rest on his thigh, brushing up and down, already wanting more, despite the long night, just as he did.

He still loved her...that hadn't changed, it wasn't stronger or weaker...but now the love mixed with a breathtaking..._desire_.

It was almost frightening; the emotion threatening to overwhelming him.

Tali's voice, breaking the heated silence between them, carried a tremble, echoing his own feelings. "You know...I'm already sick...I don't think a little..." Her hand slid further up his thigh. "..._more_ would hurt."

Suppressing a groan, Michael forced himself to look away, to ignore how swiftly his body reacted to her touch, instead he managed a chuckle. "Jeez, woman, let me rest, would you?"

"Wow, one night together and now it's '_woman_' all of a sudden?" Tali snickered. "Aww, the finest of the humans can't keep up?"

Michael shot her a smirk at that, _very_ happy to see Tali had regained her confidence, in fact, she seemed _more_ confident in herself since last night. "Insatiable, aren't you...?" Then he found himself smiling, the desire replaced by warmth as he reached up, tugging the cover slightly further up Tali's neck, despite knowing it wasn't needed... "I'll let you recover first."

A tiny chuckle. "Excuses...I _told_ you, _fourteen_ times by my count, I'm _fine_."

"Ah...well...excuse me for worrying." Michael shot back, hand moving up to rub the back of his neck as his gaze moved down over her body, all too well remembering what was beneath the suit, the taste and feel... _For goodness sake, control yourself_! "Err..." He could practically _feel_ Tali's smirk. "...so...feeling okay...otherwise?"

"A little..._sore_." Tali chuckled. "Here and there, actually, I didn't realise how rough your hands were until I could feel them...and you sure know how to grip _tightly_..." Michael swallowed at that, torn between guilt and the desire the memories sparked. "And you didn't seem so worried last night..."

"Heh...sorry, guess I got a little...eager?" He finally managed, silently admonishing himself for going back towards where the desire to tear Tali's suit off was felt throughout his body.

"I would have been disappointed if you hadn't..." Tali retorted, sounding just a little smug.

Michael moved to respond, but no words came to him as he found a stupid grin on his face as he looked down at the Quarian, who looked right back at him.

Silence.

Then EDI's voice, making Michael and Tali jump, shattering their moment. "Commander, you have a guest."

Michael turned his head, glaring at the hologram of the computer, despite knowing it wasn't fair of him. "Can't it wait for a bit?" _What's that excuse Garrus always uses_...? "I'm in the middle of some...calibrations?"

"There is nothing to calibrate on that deck, Commander." Was the dry response. "If you wish to be left alone, then say so, but may I remind you that you are the commanding officer of this vessel and that the shore-leave of the crew ended _three hours_ ago. Considering your policy of leading by example, I would think you would wish to get to work now that the others are already at their stations."

"Did the AI just berate me?" Michael looked over at Tali with a grin, pointing a finger at the hologram. "I think she just did..."

"Well...you _are_ being kind of lazy." Tali retorted with a chuckle, then pulling her cover over her head as Michael made a move towards her. "No tickling! I'm sick!"

"Ah, so _now_ you're sick! I thought you wanted to _work_, Miss Normandy?" Michael replied, fingers pushing into the cover until they found the Quarian beneath. "And making me three hours late for work! It _must_ be punished!"

"Ah, that's not fair!"

"I never claimed to _be_ fair!" Michael replied, having no mercy for the struggling form beneath the cover as he used it to contain her arms while he went for her ribs. "Now take your punishment like a good girl!"

"Gah! No!"

A clearing of the throat...and Michael slowed down as he turned his head.

"L-Liara?" Michael blinked, stunned at the sight of the blue Asari so calmly standing atop the small set of stairs in his cabin, dressed in a purple dress and with her hands hanging by her sides she was smiling down at the two...her cheeks only slightly flushed at the sight. "What the...?" He shot EDI another glare.

The computer actually sounded amused. "Jeff suggested that letting the guest in would get you back to work...I agreed."

"And I'll tell you _both_ how I feel about that idea later..." Michael grunted, forcing himself to pull his hands free as he stood up, quickly straightening his clothes as, his own cheeks slightly flushed, he turned his attention back to Liara. "I didn't expect you here...you know we're leaving port soon, I hope?"

"That is why I have come." Liara responded with a smile, her gaze turning towards the Quarian that was shyly pulling the cover down enough so she could poke her head out. "Hello Tali, nice to see you, and that you have resolved your..._issues_ with Michael."

"_I'd_ say." Michael agreed with a chuckle. All those problems between him and Tali...it felt like a lifetime ago already. "Come, sit down, have some water, it's right there on the table. I...honestly didn't expect you to come over, you seemed too busy to have time to see us off..."

Having sat down, Liara turned her head at that, looking guilty, though it was well concealed under her usual calm demeanour, further enhanced by the previous years that had turned her from a naïve scientist to a dangerous information broker. But Michael _knew_ her...better then he had any _right_ to.

Michael grimaced. "Sorry, I didn't mean it to come out like that, I know how much time and effort you've put into helping me...in a way it's good that you have your _own_ life demanding attention nowadays..." _Though perhaps not such a dangerous one_...

"And that is why I have come..." Liara took a deep breath, looking over at Michael as he too sat down. She didn't like to feel dependent on others, not after everything that had happened, Michael knew it...and also that that was what made her hesitate. "...I could use your help."

"This..." Michael grimaced. _Bad timing Liara, __really__ bad timing_. "...is about the Shadow Broker, isn't it?"

"I...yes." Liara admitted with a sigh, deflating slightly even as she moved to pour herself a glass of water from the carafe on the table.

"I know you want to get him, _I_ want to, considering what he tried to do to my body and then again on the Lazarus base...but you know what we're set out to do, what we're so _close_ to doing." Michael hated saying it, he did, it wasn't fair to Liara, not by a long shot. He owed her his _existence_, and she wanted help with something he should be interested in getting done anyway...but he would have to say _no_.

And Liara knew that, she could see it in him...and she deflated just a bit more. "I just had some information that we could work on...maybe track down the Shadow Broker..." It wasn't even a protest, it was a meek explanation, as if she was excusing herself.

"You know..." Tali suddenly chimed in, sitting up on the bed and throwing the cover aside. "...Liara _was_ on your ground-team before...doesn't she deserve a spot on the list?"

Michael stared at her, honestly baffled...but apparently Tali's adverse attitude for Liara had been reversed under the course of all that had happened. _Probably because she now knows Liara isn't competition_...

It was a tribute to Liara's skill as an information broker, not to mention a _little_ creepy, when she calmly replied. "That list was made with his new team in mind, I hardly think I qualify."

"No." Michael agreed, grimacing before turning to look back to Liara. "But you _do_ deserve my help, more so then most."

Liara met his gaze...and he found a tingle moving down his spine, as if they were almost about to meld again. _Whatever the Prothean cipher did_..._I_ _don't_ _think_ _the_ _melding works like that normally_. "But you can't give it..."

"No...not yet, anyway, not now." Michael shook his head, irritated with himself, but knowing he was making the right choice.

Tali, however, didn't seem to understand, the Quarian rising to her feet. "Why? The Normandy is ready to leave port, everyone's at the top of their game..."

"_Exactly_." Michael looked over to the Quarian as she sat down on his other side, unable to stop his hand from moving to her lap to find hers. "It's been a week since we destroyed the Collector ship. In that time we've prepared, but so have _they_, if they have _any_ sense...they _know_ we have the IFF...waiting any longer than necessary will just allow them to prepare even more."

"Ah..." Tali muttered a little awkwardly as she looked away. Michael could sense her grimace...and squeezed her hand, knowing she was thinking of the deaths of the Quarians under her command. _You shouldn't have been put in that position in the first place_...

"But when _that_ is done..." Michael turned back to look at Liara, managing a smile. "...I'll come for you."

"You...don't lack for confidence." Liara noted, something akin to a smirk appearing on her lips, if only for a moment. Behind Michael, Tali chuckled.

"Well...you know..." Michael put his hands behind the back of his head, grinning as he leant back in the couch, managing an arrogant look on his face. "...as Garrus pointed out, the Collectors killed me once and it only pissed me off...so I can safely say that they are screwed."

Silence.

Then Liara cocked her head to the side, meeting Tali's gaze. "Look out for him, will you? It's obvious he's still his worst enemy."

"Hey!"

Michael feigned anger, though the women ignored him as Tali replied. "It's a full time job, but I'll get it done."

"Oh you two are _so_ funny..."

"Well then..." Liara rose to her feet, hands idly moving down to smooth the creases in her dress. "...I will not keep you and...well..." She was worried she'd never see them again, he could _feel_ it, but she hid it well as she offered a weak smile back at them. "...let's just say I'll see you later."

Michael nodded, finding himself tensing as he realised that she just might not be right... "It's a promise."

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"Commander, I am registering multiple contacts near the Omega four relay." EDI calmly reported, making Michael straighten where he stood behind Joker, his heart beating a bit too fast for his own liking. "Counting one hundred and three vessels of various size and configuration, their sensors are targeting us."

"Weapons?" He asked, grimacing at the thought of being stopped even _before_ they had gotten through the relay.

"No weapons targeting us, vessels are largely civilian." EDI responded, making Michael frown. _What the hell is going on_...? "I also took the liberty to screen and read messages sent by seventy-eight of the vessels."

"Wait, what _kind_ of messages?"_ This is just getting weirder and weirder_...

"Twelve are warnings of the dangers of entering the Omega four relay, twenty are various versions of 'our prayers are with you' and the remaining forty-six are filled with exclamations about us 'kicking Collector ass'..." EDI dryly replied.

Joker chuckled. "Ha! We have an audience! You know, I've always wanted to show off my mad skills..."

Michael chuckled, with them about to enter battle...he couldn't deny the pilot what could possibly be his last bit of fun. "EDI, power up the IFF, Joker...give them a show."

"I love your orders." Joker grinned...and the Normandy shot forth as the thrusters increased to maximum, hurtling the ship towards the crimson light of the Omega four relay.

Michael took a deep breath at the sight, mind almost blank, all plans and strategies forgotten for that one moment as he felt something in his mind click into place.

_Time to show the Reapers that we're to be feared_...

"Yahooo!" Was Joker's loud agreement, the Normandy doing a barrel roll as it hurtled into the field of the Omega four relay...and shot forth into the unknown.

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_Thanks to Abydos Jackson for her patience with me, that **endless** patience..._


	67. Chapter 67

"Evasive manoeuvre!"

EDI's shout almost disappeared in the curses of Michael and Joker as the later jerked the Normandy harshly to the right, the dark space in front of the cockpit lighting up as dozens of ruby beams shot past the windshield. "Thirty enemy fighters on our six!"

"Oh that's just rude! Waiting _behind_ the relay?" Joker growled, then turned his head back to shout. "_Real_ original, _jackasses_!"

Michael didn't manage to reply; gritting his teeth he gripped onto the backrest as he just barely managed to stay on his feet as one of their pursuers struck a hit. _Holy_ _mother of_...

The area was anything but the usual black space, all around them hundreds of stars blazed, their combined glow filling it with a orange light that would have been blinding if the windshield hadn't instantly been tinted. Below, there were a thick field of asteroids, making Michael feel as if they were a great bird just skimming a sea.

And ahead, a dark silhouette of what could only be a space station stood like a massive statue, resembling one of their cruisers, but _far_ bigger. "That's one _big_ station..."

EDI's voice cut through his mutter. "Space station ahead, reading massive energy signatures within. Alert, three signals detaching and heading on intercept course, identifying...Collector cruisers."

"Three?" Michael repeated, eyes widening for a brief moment before he nodded, knowing less would have been lucky. "Joker, I hope you're ready..."

"Shut up..." The pilot grunted, making Michael arch an eyebrow as he saw the pilot's hands dart over the controls of the Normandy. "..._sir_. Little busy here..." Even as he spoke, the ship once more shuddered before it spun in a tight loop, guns spitting death even _before_ the enemy fighters came into their sights...

Then their vision was clouded by orange blasts as they flew through pieces of shredded steel from several destroyed fighters, the rest scattering like a shoal of fish with the shark right among them...only to turn about to again attack the Normandy's battered hull.

"EDI, a little help!" Joker shouted, and was instantly greeted by an explosion to their left. A laugh. "Good girl!"

EDI's answer was short and curt. "Enemy fighters are difficult to target with the GARDIAN, they're too fast, recalibrating." A pause, another explosion even as the Normandy rose upwards, enemy ruby blasts shooting past them. "Jeff, we're within maximum range of the enemy cruisers, they're powering main weaponry."

"Right, time to step things up!" Joker responded, the ship spinning a hundred-eighty degrees before pulling upwards, hurtling down towards the asteroid belt suddenly in front of them.

"Enemy attacks missed, energy rays taken out...ten enemy fighters." Michael blinked at EDI's words. _How the hell did Joker pull __that__ off_!He blinked, staring at what he suddenly saw ahead._ And why is he flying straight __into__ the asteroids_!

The Normandy spun...and a chunky piece of steel ahead disappeared out of sight as they just dodged it, the ship shuddering as one of their pursuers drove into what they just dodged. _Wait, why are the asteroids made of steel_? Staring, Michael realised they weren't asteroids, but pieces of ships, bulkheads, engines, torn shreds of steel... "Many tried to enter here...doesn't seem any succeeded."

"Great, _that's_ good for morale." Joker hissed, the Normandy banking a sharp left as two broken pieces of some ancient ship ahead were disintegrated by the blasts of the pursuing fighters.

"Jeff, the Collector cruisers are closing in fast, in moments they'll be at the edge of the debris field, main guns charging...firing."

The Normandy spun downwards, dropping its velocity with such speed that Michael was jerked forward, thumping into the backrest of Joker's chair. Above, the yellow light of the cruiser's blasts filled the cockpit as they tore through the debris, ripping asunder the broken husks of the ships as well as annihilating two enemy fighters.

"How the hell do we deal with those things when they're behind us?" Michael asked aloud, though the fear of dying was minimal, the fear of those in his charge dying..._that_ was another thing. He gritted his teeth, feeling powerless, his weapons and commands useless in the current situation.

Joker didn't see the question as rhetorical, however, the man cocking his head to the side as he spun the ship to the left, fired missile tearing another enemy fighter apart. "Hmmm...ever played mini-golf?"

"I..._what_!" Michael blinked. "What does that have to do with it!"

"You have to _bounce_ the ball to get it near the hole..." Joker grunted, the ship making a steep turn...right towards curved bulkhead left from some broken warship.

_Wait_...

EDI's voice was filled with concern. "Jeff, our kinetic barriers aren't built for that kind of manoeuvre."

"I trust my favourite engineer's work..." Was Joker's gritted reply, the Normandy pushing forward.

..._what_!

Michael fell with the force of the impact, the lamps of the interior of the Normandy flickering, momentarily dying as the power almost went. Head turning to look up as he saw the Normandy's kinetic barriers flare with the impact as the underside of the ship smashed into the broken bulkhead and bounced away...and the view of the windshield ahead was suddenly filled with the sight of a Collector cruiser.

"Firing main gun!" Joker cried out...and everything ahead was lit up as explosions rose up in front of them, swallowing the pale blue light of the Thanix cannon as it tore through the ship from bow to stern.

"Target destroyed, our kinetic barriers are down." EDI announced, the machine sounding strangely displeased. "We were almost gutted by that move, Jeff." Ahead, the Normandy spun free, then turned as sharply as possible.

"Yet _we're_ not the ones spilling our entrails into the debris field..." Joker replied even as they flew round, drawing sight of the Collector cruisers. The one to the far right was split along the length, Collectors and machinery spilling out from the long rift. The other two were turning though, and over the central one six enemy fighters came flying close to the cruiser... "Hellooo doomed people!"

Again, the Normandy fired, the powerful beam striking the rear of the central cruiser, ripping it open in a great blast, pieces of stone and steel shooting out from it, ripping into the nearby fighters even as the blast of the explosion sent them hurtling away in pieces.

The cruiser listed, something within it shaking, sending it moving sideways...and right into the still intact Collector vessel, pieces of rocks from their outer covering flying off in a haze of dust.

The intact cruiser turned with the impact, away from the listing vessel that now began to twist around on its axis as the damage on it made the integrity of the bulkheads give in, slowly tearing it open. Meanwhile the last cruiser was exposing its left flank to the Normandy...and Joker was visibly tensing with eagerness as he gunned the engines, hurtling the frigate forth...jerking it to the left as the Normandy opened up once more.

The blast struck the Collector cruiser just past the engine, tearing into the hull, burning _through_ it...and sliced up along the length of the ship, neither the outer covering of rock nor the armour beneath capable of resisting the powerful cannon. Got to love Garrus and his connections.

While in space, Michael couldn't hear the explosion, yet he could still almost _feel_ it as the Collector cruiser split in two along the length, the glowing cut through it spilling content out into space like that of a gutted animal.

Then they were past it, turning sharply towards the Collector base. "Right, that was a _lot_ of kills just there...think you can even get close to it, boss?" Joker chuckled, looking over at Michael with a smirk...yet he was visibly relieved, slouching down in his seat, the sweat over his face forgotten as he breathed out in relief.

Michael was chuckling, shaking his head as he found himself relaxing as well, only now remembering to get back up on his feet. "Joker, Joker, it's not about the quantity of kills, it's about the _quality_."

"Says the loser." Joker chuckled. "So, I'm guessing I land on that thing and you guys deploy?" He pointed over at the steadily growing Collector base, smirking.

"Actually...I sort of figured we would have trouble getting this far and would have to make some sort of desperate boarding." Michael replied, grinning at the realisation they had the perfect opportunity to nip the problem in the bud without _any_ further risk. _Makes getting the entire team kind of pointless_..._but I won't complain about getting an easy win for once_. "Joker...you may fire at will."

"With plea-"

"I'm detecting an energy spike in the Collector base!" EDI suddenly announced. "Beyond calcula-"

The ship went dark. The lamps in the ceiling, the computer consoles, even the _emergency lighting_..._all_ went dead.

Someone screamed, others dove for the floor, ready for the ship to be torn apart by some impact or another.

_I __had__ to jinx it_... Michael groaned. "EDI?" No answer. "EDI?" _Ah crap_... "Joker...give me options."

Silence.

Then Joker, sitting very still in his chair. "Shit."

"Joker...?"

"Shit, shit, _shit_!" Joker's hands were suddenly flying over the instruments, but nothing seemed to be happening, not even wrenching at the real controls, since the holographic ones were gone, seemed to cause anything. "All systems down, I don't even know if life-support is still up!" A small, desperate, laugh. "Not that that matters when we crash into that freaking space station!"

"Calm down." Michael ordered, forcing himself to do just that as he moved his hand to the comlink in his helmet. Fortunately it hadn't been affected by whatever the Collectors had unleashed, which gave hope to the next part of his plan. "Jacob, what's the status of the shuttle?"

A hiss of static, then a thumping sound, followed by a curse. "Sorry, sir, it's very dark in here...no go on the shuttle, it was hooked into the Normandy, all systems are down."

_So_..._next_ _option_. Michael turned back to Joker. "We will have to use the escape pods, and this time you _will_ get into it, got it?"

Joker didn't seem to notice the little joke. The man was incredible still as he sat in his chair, hands on the controls, just staring out the windshield as the Collector base grew nearer, the great stone-covered station now blotting out anything else as the ship, now close enough to the massive thing's gravity, began to fall.

"Dammit man, get going! I'll get the rest of the crew and-"

A loud humming sound...and the controls around the ship came back online, EDI's hologram appearing in its place once more, the voice filled with a stutter. "S-system pa-partially r-restored, engines...n-no kinetic ba-barriers, br-brace f-for i-impact..."

Joker growled something under his breath, hands flying over the controls, and the Normandy's nose rose even as the Collector base grew ever nearer...

A hint of dark space above...and Michael was once more thrown from his feet as the entire ship shook as if struck by a giant. A loud screeching sound echoed all the way from engineering into the command deck, making the poor crew lacking helmets howl as they put their hands over their ears...and then there was silence.

_Deafening_ silence.

Then Michael picked himself up, ignoring the groans of pain from people having been knocked about as he turned his head to EDI, the hologram flickering in and out. "EDI? You okay?"

There was only a hiss of static, then some stuttering...and then a few lamps in the ceiling came alight, the hologram becoming more steady. "Electronics have received major damage, many circuits have been burnt out, luckily I diverted the damage to non-essential systems...but I cannot tell of the structural damage to the ship, my sensors are largely down." EDI replied, actually sounding a bit shaken. "Systems..._I_...have suffered severe damage."

"It can be repaired." Joker muttered, eyeing the hologram with something akin to a smile on his face. "We'll get right on it...erm...right, commander?" Shaking his head, the pilot looked back at Michael, only now remembering the man was still in the room.

Michael nodded in agreement, not really in the mood to tease the pilot about his affection for the machine. "Damn right, I intend to take this bird back home. Joker, get Donnelly and Gabby on the horn, you three will organize the crew into repairing the ship. Any one too injured to work will go to Chakwas, smaller injuries will have to be ignored. I doubt many will complain about that given the situation..." He turned to EDI's hologram, grimacing about what he was about to ask. "EDI, I know you want to assist the crew in repairing...well..._you_, but I want your primary focus in terms of processing power to be directed at helping the ground team in the Collector base, can I count on that?"

"I trust the crew with my being." EDI calmly responded, the hologram fading a little as its projector nearly died out. "I'm already hacking the Collector network and will not let you down."

"Good...girl." Michael snickered, glancing at Joker...who shot him an embarrassed glare. "Right, I need the ground-team to assemble in the briefing room, we have a boarding action to prepare..."

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"So there we have it, we're stuck here until they've made repairs to the ship." Michael finished the debriefing. Standing at the head of the table with the rest of the team assembled in front of him, he leant forward, eyeing the group intently. No one looked hesitant, nor afraid, they only looked ready, a few of them _eagerly_ so. _Perfect_... "But I don't intend to sit here waiting. The Collectors may still find us, and destroying the Collectors take priority, especially since they seem unaware we're still here, EDI?"

The hologram appearing in the middle of the table was a fuzzy green, shifting under heavy static before it steadied itself, becoming a surprisingly detailed picture of the Collector base and its insides. EDI's voice came in clear right from the start though. "While my sensors are still down, my hacking of the Collector systems has revealed that whatever weapon they used has ruined theirs as well. I cannot translate their chatter, but it is concentrated around what I believe to be their hangar, I postulate they are preparing vessels for salvage operations."

"Which gives us a window of opportunity." Michael noted with a nod, pointing at the hologram ahead, a blinking red dot appearing on it. "See here? We landed on the southern end of the base, we have a ten megaton bomb, but it won't be enough to destroy the base, but if we activate it near the enemy mass effect core in the central chamber over _there_ the thing will shatter. Of course, _getting_ there will be a problem." He eyed the distance between the red dot that was them and the yellow glow of the central chamber of the Collector base with a critical eye.

"The central chamber is extremely large, why?" Jacob grunted, then pointed at the extensions of the chamber going south. "And why does it continue down like that?" A grimace and a shrug, the man looking uncomfortable. "Guess it doesn't matter, but we _can_ transport up along it directly to the central chamber, rappelling, perhaps?"

"Negative on that." Michael replied, though offered a nod as he continued. "EDI could hack one or several of their transporting platforms to get up there, but either that or rappelling will make us sitting ducks for the Collectors that _will_ spot us. We need to have them concentrated _elsewhere_ if we're to use that path, which is why we will use it as our retreat when the time comes."

"Then the plan is for us to approach via their tunnels?" Miranda asked, frowning as she eyed the interior of the station. "As we did while boarding their cruiser? You're thinking of using that tunnel over there?" Her hand moved over one of the larger tunnels moving past their ship and northwards.

"Yes, among others." Michael replied, moving both hands forward and highlighting the tunnel Miranda had indicated, along with a smaller one turning in a wider path. "We will have our main force move down the tunnel you pointed out, drawing attention via the obviousness of our approach. A smaller team will use this path and use explosives on all computers and machines there, EDI postulates that there's important systems along it, so the Collectors should be torn between two needs. The problem is that both tunnels end in this chamber ahead...and the doors there require manual override to open, but there's a pipe _here_..." Another tunnel, tiny in comparison, lit up. "Where we can have a _third_ team move through. Jacob, you'll be leading Tali and Legion through it to get the doors open."

"You want me to walk through a husk-filled sewer again?" Tali piped up, making Michael chuckle. "You charmer." Garrus and Jack _both_ chuckled at that.

"_Anyway_..." Miranda cleared her throat, shooting Tali a pointed look that lost its edge with the tiny smile on her lips. "...who is leading the second team?"

"You are." Michael responded, forcing himself not to glance at the hesitant look suddenly on Garrus' face, and slightly annoyed with the relief of the Turian with Michael's words. "You'll take Thane and Kasumi." _Good at stealth and silent take-downs_. "You'll move through it, place explosives that you'll only detonate once you've moved on, don't move too fast or you'll be stuck by the door and have Collectors inbound, use your discretion."

"Which leaves the rest of us with you." Zaeed grunted.

"Exactly." Michael nodded, turning to the others as he straightened. "I need a full load-out; light explosive packs for all in the team, extra ammunition with that, we move hard and fast. This is it, we won't fail."

Silence, the others looking at one another.

A few nods, a few grins, some chuckles, the group visibly straightening.

And Michael smiled at them.

_We won't fail_.

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_Thanks to Abydos Jackson for not getting bored._


	68. Chapter 68

"This is Shepard, no hostiles detected, double timing it. Teams, status report." The radio crackled.

The kneeling Miranda didn't look up from her work, the explosive in her hands was highly advanced...and as such required focus if you wanted it to detonate in the desired way. _Shape the charge down along the console, might shatter wiring beneath and take out more systems_..._there_. She rose, hand on her lower back as she felt it crack. She had deployed...ten explosives, by now? Glancing back she saw Thane atop a small rock, the man crouching low as his sniper rifle moved back and forth in an effort to find targets. Kasumi on the other hand was nowhere to be found, the woman sneaking ahead as ordered.

She still grimaced though, their 'tunnel' was more of a set of long ledges and bridges, moving over or around chasms and deep drops, all of them covered in various machinery, organic-looking pods that Miranda wasn't sure if they contained kidnapped people or more Collectors. It was a disgusting sight, and more importantly, _dangerous_, at any moment Collectors could come flying from one of the many chasms, flanking the small team. So far though, resistance had been minimal. "This is Miranda, making good time. Two Collector sentries downed, ten explosives in place."

Again, the radio crackled. "Jacob here, one husk killed, no further opposition so far. The footing is treacherous though, slowing us down." _I bet_. Miranda grimaced, remembering all too well the filth of the sewer in the Collector cruiser, and Jacob had to slog _upwards_ through it.

"Good, keep at it." Michael replied. "We're approaching a larger chamber, I doubt we'll...ambush!" The shout made Miranda wince, just as much due to the sound as it was to the information. "Grunt! Zaeed! Front and centre! Garrus! Target the ledges! I want biotic suppression on the flanks!" There was a muted explosion in Miranda's earpiece, then Michael's voice. "Miranda, continue on and ignite the currently placed explosives in thirty seconds, the plan remains unchanged."

"Roger that, Commander." Miranda retorted, moving on, a minuscule wave of her hand all that was needed to get Thane to follow.

Ahead, a Collector lay, Kasumi appearing out of the shadows, her hood splashed with yellow blood as her teeth flashed. "I think this one was looking for the two bugs we ambushed before, I think they suspect we're here."

Miranda moved to answer...only to hear it...the buzzing sound of Collector wings.

Thane's voice was annoyingly calm. "I think you're right."

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"Grenade!" Zaeed's shout nearly disappeared in that of the weapon fire and the screeches of Collectors and husks.

The explosive flew true though, blowing apart the low stone wall ahead and sending the three Collectors behind it stumbling back as liquid fire clung to their bodies, immolating chitin and the flesh beneath.

Seeing this, Michael instantly broke cover, rushing through the dust and shouldering aside one of the burning bodies before dropping onto one knee, Revenant rifle coming up to pour shots into ten more Collectors that suddenly found themselves running towards a now non-existent cover.

To the right, atop a ledge, another Collector turned its rifle towards Michael...only for its skull to come apart as Garrus got a direct hit. Michael had no time to thank him though, seeing the next wave of Collectors ahead run into a new line of cover as they saw the ten at the front collapse under Michael's fusillade. "Jack! Suppression! Mordin! Freeze! Grunt! Charge!"

The following biotic attack was a haze of blue light...that turned into a crashing wave, tearing the top of the cover apart and making the collectors stumble backwards...only for them to freeze still as Mordin rushed past Michael with a glowing omni-tool. Grunt was roaring...and rushed past the Salarian, shotgun blasting apart the foremost Collector before his great body crashed in among the rest, smashing them into frozen pieces with the sheer force of his one ton body striking them.

"More Collectors on our rear." Samara calmly informed them, making Michael glance back in time to see she Asari spin, her heeled boot smashing the head off a charging husk before sending a biotic throw that hurled two Collectors into a wall with a loud crunch."They are coming from the ceiling."

Indeed they were, even as Michael watched, rectangular holes in the high ceiling spewed out _dozens_ of Collectors, the insects coming down on fluttering wings even as the now back-pedalling team poured shots at them, trying to bring down as many as possible before they had time to land and find cover. _Well_..._shit_. "Keep moving, we're almost at the door!" A glance back told Michael he was being a bit _optimistic_. Sure, the door was within sight, no more then a hundred feet away...but that was quite the distance when being shot at by half the Collector _race_. He briefly activated his communicator. "Jacob! We're soon at the door, and you better get it open by then!"

There was no answer, or if there was, it was blotted out by an explosion as Michael leapt over a wall and ducked low...while Garrus _crashed_ down next to him, the Turian's arms flailing as he beat down a fire over his breastplate. Then, growling, he rolled onto all fours, nodding back from whence he came with a glint in his eyes. "Michael, your friend is here."

Looking over, Michael groaned at the sight of the burning Collector, its weapon forgotten as it ignored the odd shot striking it while marching forth, its glowing eyes _fixed_ on Michael. "_Shepard, you will not escape us_."

"Oh for...who _talks_ like that!" Michael snapped back, drawing a bead on the Collector with his Revenant and opening up...only to find the shots absorbed by the creature's biotic barrier. _Huh_..._is it just me or is it absorbing more damage then normal_? _Maybe_..._whooop_! Michael ducked, the sizzling ball of fire hurled from the possessed Collector just grazing his helmet. "Seriously, Harbinger? Lighten up!"

The answer was another ball of fire, tearing into the ground next to him and Garrus, the Turian grunting as he muttered. "Did you just tell the _burning_ thing to _lighten up_?"

Michael stared at Garrus...who stared right back, sharp teeth slowly forming a grin...and Michael couldn't help but laugh, a laugh quickly picked up by Garrus even as the man lobbed a grenade over their cover and towards the massing Collectors.

"_Shepard, we are the hand of your ascension, you have nothing to fear_." The voice of Harbinger said, now extremely close, so close Michael could _feel_ the heat of the Collector as it strode for his cover. "_Surrender yourself_."

Michael glanced over at Garrus...two nods...and the pair flew to their feet, suddenly right in front of the Collector as it reached out with its burning talons...

Garrus' left hand shot out, grabbing a hold of the Collector's left arm and yanking it forward even as his foot came down on the inside of its knee, making the creature slump forward as the joint gave in. Michael's own left hand shot out, grabbing the Collector's other arm...and jammed his Revenant into the throat of the monster. "I'll think about it."

A round of shots...and the creature's head was torn off, both it and its body instantly turning to ash.

Zaeed's shout reached them a moment later. "Shepard, over here!" Turning, Michael found that the rest of the team had managed to form something of a defensive circle by the still decidedly closed door ahead, their weapons spitting death at the Collectors swarming practically on top of him and Garrus.

The two instantly broke into a run. Their shields flared as the enemy poured shots into them, their armour bent and cracked as the shields failed...and then the pair jumped over the nearest wall and dropped low, panting and automatically checking themselves for injuries, a few patches of medi-gel being applied even as the rest of the team continued their barrage of fire.

Then...a sudden silence, making Michael look up, finding the rest of the team lowering their weapons, frowning in confusion.

Jack was the one giving voice to it. "Where the fuck did they go?"

_Retreating_? _Now_? _Why_? Grunting, Michael got to his feet, reloading his Revenant rifle, frowning even as he eyed the path they had come from.

Along the corridor Collector corpses lay, some in heaps, others in craters made from explosives, some with no visible injuries, others in pieces. Yet for the all the impressiveness of what his team had managed to do...Michael didn't think it would be enough to make the Collectors_ give up_...it just didn't make sense. _Not that I should look a gift-horse in the mouth_...

"Maybe they're actually letting you think about surrendering?" Garrus chuckled, drawing a few snorts from the others.

Especially Grunt. "Why should _we_ be the ones surrendering?"

"Ah, think you can take _all_ the Collectors on?" Garrus responded, his voice somewhat hushed as everyone stayed behind their cover and eyed the corridor ahead, tense and ready. "Bet you don't even need a gun, you'll just bite them to death."

"Blech, Collectors taste like _ramen_." Grunt replied, drawing an arched eyebrow from Michael, finding the sight of a grimacing Krogan something of an oddity. "Humans are disgusting..."

A few chuckles spread along the line of defenders at that...

...chuckles dying as they heard it.

Moans.

_Many_ moans.

_Oh_..._crap_. Far in the distance they appeared, husks, _many_ husks...

Michael couldn't count them, the monsters were a solid mass. As if marching in some ancient formation they moved forth shoulder to shoulder, those behind pressing on, creating a dark mass...a black _flood_ of undead creatures. _I don't see an end to them_..._thousands_... Michael activated the communicator. "Uhhh...Jacob...?"

A long moan, echoing as hundreds more husks took up the call, their heads turning, dead eyes focusing on the distant group...a moan turning into a _hiss_.

"The door...open it..."

A hiss turning into a _growl_...and the husks suddenly broke into a run, the horde _flooding_ forth.

"..._now_!" Snapping off the communicator, Michael stood straight. Steadying the Revenant against his shoulder as he lined up his sight, _feeling_ rather then seeing the others move up next to him as he growled. "Form line, intensive forward fire, grenades and biotic pushes at priority..." He shot Mordin a glance, smirking. "...hold the line."

The Salarian merely chuckled.

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"Jacob! We're soon at the door, and you better get it open by then!"

Shepard's call through the communicator went unanswered as with a grunt, Jacob pulled backwards, only for the husk gripping onto his shotgun to clamp down, the creature's mouth opening in a moan as it retained its hold on his weapon.

A moment later Jacob moved back, letting his forehead smash into the face of the creature, knocking it down into the green sewage with a splash. Blinking, Jacob moved forth, foot coming down hard on the husk's neck even as his now freed shotgun blasted the head off a second one as it lunged at Tali, the Quarian herself busy blasting half a dozen others into pieces as the stupid creatures tried to catch the fast drone she had released.

Even as Jacob watched, the drone flew under the arms of a chasing husk, only to blast it into the back and send it stumbling head first into a wall, a second one nearly got hold of the machine, only for Tali to blow it's legs off from underneath it.

Further back Legion rose, the machine having been knocked over by the husk ambushers. Green sewage was pouring from its mechanical form, but Legion ignored it as it raised its massive sniper rifle...and blew a fist-sized hole through the last husk ahead.

The silence after the sudden combat was nearly deafening.

Then Legion looked further ahead. "Calculating, a hundred-fifty feet to objective...warning, path obstructed by hostiles."

"What..." Jacob's question stuttered as he saw them, more husks rising from the sewage, like some undead horror arising from a swamp. "...hostiles?" _This could be a problem_.

Again, the communicator crackled, Shepard's voice worried. "Uhhh...Jacob...?" Tense. "The door...open it..."

Jacob wasted no time, waving Legion forward he himself began to run. "Offensive formation, forward!"

"..._now_!"

Jacob barely heard the shout of the Commander, his legs aching with the effort of pumping through the sludge covering the ground as he ran forward, shotgun barking once, twice, _thrice_...

Ahead, the husks were falling, but more were running forward, the slight slope giving them a frightening momentum as they came down on Jacob, one leaping into the air...

There was liquid fire in Jacob's veins, contained, ordered, _controlled_...

With a hiss, the husk was gripped by the biotic force and pulled over Jacob's head...where it was torn apart as Tali, hot on Jacob's heels, opened up with her own weapon of choice.

A loud bang...and two husks fell, one with its head coming apart, the one behind it with its abdomen turning into dust as Legion's shot tore through both. Another leapt at Jacob, only for him to duck low to the right and swing, the butt of his shotgun smashing into the knee of the creature and breaking it. The creature fell forward...only for Tali to smash her own shotgun into its face...and its neck snapped with a loud crack.

"We need to hurry!" Tali shouted over the din of battle...and Jacob gritted his teeth in annoyance as he pushed ahead, shots tearing two more husks apart before he moved to reload. _Tell me something I don't know_...

Ducking to the side as he reloaded, he let Tali fire away at the charging husks, Legion right behind her, the Geth now using his Vindicator rifle to pour a steady stream of shots into the enemies, the cramped conditions making it nearly impossible to miss.

A click, and Jacob was ready, his shotgun once more barking, tearing the arm off a charging husk before he kicked its face open. "Move it, people, we can't slow down!" _Almost_ _there_... Even with all the husks, Jacob could see it, there was a steel grill covering the hole at the end of the tunnel, but it clearly led out into a chamber, a chamber they _had_ to get to.

Then another husk rose just in front of the grill, covering it with its bloated form...and Jacob's eyes widened. "Scion!" He fired, tearing the nearest husk in two before he looked back to Legion. "Sniper rifle, take it out, now!"

"Acknowledged." Legion replied, moving to switch weapon...even as the thump-thump sound of the Scion firing reached Jacob's eyes.

He turned in time to see husks breaking apart, pieces of them flying here and there as the Scion cruelly tore its own allies apart with the potent weapon mounted on its bloated form. Yet the shot just continued forward, tearing the husks apart, making sewage fountain upwards with each impact...and then slamming into the team.

_Pain_!

Jacob shouted, in anger or agony, he wasn't sure, as he fell onto his back. He was dimly aware that Tali was also shouting, and Legion was saying something that was impossible to make sense of with the ringing in his ears, but surely wasn't positive.

Rolling over, Jacob looked back and found Legion on one knee, the machines hands gripping tight onto its sniper rifle as it used it to keep itself from falling over, sparks flying from a dent in its right shoulder. First, Jacob couldn't even _spot_ Tali, only for the woman to appear, gasping as she sat up, sewage covering her from head to toe, her shields miraculously intact as they shimmered around her from the force of the powerful impact.

_Dammit_! Jacob jumped to his feet and whirled about, finding the Scion still standing by the grill, apparently set on holding its position as its sick body pulsated as it started to charge up for another blast. _Need to hurry_...

Jacob winced.

_This is going to hurt_...

Then, shouting, he ran forward, feeling his body grow cold as he charged up his biotics, letting the fire in his blood turn into _ice_, ice _around_ him, surrounding him, _protecting_ him...

The Scion looked at him, the dead eyes showing no surprise, no fear, no hatred, _nothing_...instead its body pulsed with unnatural life...and jerked as it once more fired.

A crash...and Jacob stumbled, but stayed on his feet as he forced himself to keep running. The biotic field around him buckled under the powerful blast, then flashed as Jacob found himself unable to maintain it, the backlash making him see stars even as he cried out and fired his shotgun at the now nearby target.

The Scion barely reacted to the shot, despite some of the flesh around its large body breaking off with the powerful blast.

But it _did_ take half a step backwards...and that was all Jacob needed.

Roaring, Jacob threw his entire weight into the chest of the monster, sending man and creature flying into the grill, breaking it off the wall and making them both crash to the floor in the chamber beyond.

A rattling moan...and the Scion trashed about beneath him, legs kicking at his. Clawed toes gouging holes down his boots as Jacob struggled to bring his shotgun to bear, even as he pushed the great gun of the Scion aside.

_Pain_!

Gasping, Jacob found his left hand gripping into his side, staring in shock at the blood welling from it as the Scion's atrophied arm pulled back for another swing, its hands covered in blood...

_No_! Jacob caught the next swing, ignoring the blood welling from his wound as he blocked the attack...and pushed his shotgun underneath the jaw of the creature and pulled the trigger.

It instantly went limp, its head nothing but a crater...and Jacob remained atop it, swaying as he dropped his shotgun, both hands coming to his side to stem the blood, his right hand starting to shake as he reached down for his belt. _Need_..._medi_-_gel_...

"Jacob! You're hurt!" Tali shouted, the woman's feet hitting the ground behind him as she came to help.

"No! Get the door!" Jacob grunted, waving a bloodied hand at the door to his right, then to the one to his left. "Legion, that door! _Go_!"

His trembling hand found the medi-gel dispenser even as Tali and Legion reached their respective consoles, the pair working fast...and Jacob sighed in pleasure as he managed to bring up the salve to his wound, instantly sealing it as well as blocking the pain. _Good_... Blinking away the dizziness, he reached for another pocket, drawing up a pill that he swiftly popped into his mouth. _Inducing more blood-production, I'll be okay in a little while_...

Then he turned his head to the left, finding Legion's double doors opening. Instantly Miranda, Thane and Kasumi stumbled in, the two women gasping for air as they fell to the ground. Thane, on the other hand, simply turned around and dropped onto one knee, submachine gun firing back at their pursuers until Legion got the door shut.

_Well_..._good_... Jacob shot Thane a reluctantly grateful look, then Kasumi a worried one. ..._for_ _a_ _mercenary_.

A moment later the other double doors opened...and let a stream of shouts, cries, moans and gunfire fill the chamber as, before Jacob's wide eyes, the large group under Michael's command was nowhere to be seen in the _horde_ of husks on the other side. Michael's shout was nearly lost in all the sounds. "Keep the entrance small! _Small_!"

The door moved to close, only to stop with a six feet gap to go as the first in the team appeared, a battered-looking Mordin stumbling in, one hand clutching a broken scalpel, his right a smoking pistol that he dizzily moved back to aim at the entrance even as blood poured from a gash along his forehead.

Then Jack, her barely clothed form from head to toe covered in black dust and filth, the biotic swearing so constantly that it wasn't really swearwords, just a stream of _sounds_. The human turned the instant she was in though, biotic energy shooting out from her clenched fist and into what only seemed to be a chaos of flailing limbs on the other side.

The attack sent several husks flying though, and in their wake Samara came running, closely followed Garrus, the Turian bowling a charging husk over even as he leapt into the chamber and crashed into Jack in a tangle of limbs and curses.

Michael's order, above the din of fighting, made everyone take a step back. "Fire in the hole! Grunt, clear the way!"

Next, the entrance was nothing but fire and sizzling husks...and Grunt came crashing through those the grenade had missed, his great bulk crushing any knocked over and sending those not flying as he charged right through the gap between the doors.

Right on his tail, Michael and Zaeed came running, guns spewing shots at their sides, keeping the husks back as best they could as they leapt through the doorway.

Only for Zaeed to let out a curse as one of the husks on the ground, its legs burnt off, caught his foot in its talon. "_Shit_! Help me, god dammit!"

Michael spun around at the other side of the doorway, rifle dropping to the ground as he reached out, both hands gripping onto Zaeed's right one, pulling him in between the doors...only for the old man to cry out as the mass of husks poured forth, clawed hands gripping into him, clawing, biting and pulling. "Grunt! Garrus! Help!" At Michael's command, the two rushed forth and gripped onto what little they could reach, pulling at Zaeed as the husks tried to bring him back in.

A roar of agony as Zaeed tossed his head back, eyes wide in pain...and then a _crunch_ as Michael, Garrus, Grunt and Zaeed fell heavily to the ground as they won the contests with the husks, Tali swiftly closing the door before the creatures could pour forth.

Only...they _hadn't_ won the contest.

In the hands of the three soldiers was nothing more than a torso, the rest of the mercenary lost on the other side, his armour broken around the waist, the gory remains of his torn flesh clinging to a snapped spine poking forth from underneath a broken piece of armour.

Silence.

Then Grunt got to his feet, growling. "He died fighting."

"Casualties were...to be expected." Garrus muttered as he too got to his feet, worriedly eyeing Michael as the man stared at the broken body before him lying so still on the ground.

The man blinked, something welling up in his eyes...only for him to blink again, chest heaving as he took a deep breath. "Yeah, I guess it was..." A grunt...and he got to his feet, eyes sad as he looked down on the body. Behind him, Tali seemed about to move forth to put a hand on his shoulder...but stopped herself as the man sighed and shook his head, voice low. "...we can't save them all."

"We can still save _millions_." Miranda muttered, the woman brushing past Jacob, shooting his wound a concerned look before turning back to Michael. "The sacrifice will be worth it."

Michael hesitated, but only for a moment. "Yes..." A nod, the man straightening, an angry fire in his eyes. "...we will _make_ it worth it."

And Jacob believed him.

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_Thanks to Abydos Jackson for all her hard work._


	69. Chapter 69

_Another man lost, another failure, my fault_.

The words echoed in Michael's head, painful and familiar. _Unacceptable_...

Yet...as he stared down at the ruined remains of Zaeed...the painful words no longer held the power they had once had. In contrast, _Miranda's_ words rang stronger; _the sacrifice will be worth it_.

_I will __make__ it worth it_.

Michael's eyes narrowed at the dead man, his hands gripping his rifle tighter. _Those I failed at Elysium, Ashley, the dead at the Citadel, the hundreds of thousands we couldn't save from the Collectors_..._the __millions__ we'll lose to the Reapers when they come_..._I will __make__ it worth it, I will __make__ those losses mean something_.

"Commander? You better take a look at this." Jacob muttered, voice filled with worry.

Michael's gaze lingered on the broken corpse.

_I swear it_.

Turning his head, Michael left the mercenary where he lay as he moved over to Jacob, his voice a harsh growl. "What is it?"

Jacob threw him a worried look, a look almost becoming frightened at whatever he saw in Michael's face, but then the mask of discipline was back as he gestured ahead. "See for yourself..."

The doors and sewer entrance were just a small part of the large chamber the team had entered, now forgotten behind them as they stared ahead.

They were standing on a platform, almost a balcony, of stone, two wide bridges grew out from it towards distant doors to the left and right. Distant, because the round chamber had to be five kilometres from one end to the other, both horizontally and vertically.

The walls of the chamber were not just of stone, however, they were pockmarked with hundreds of holes just large enough for the pods the Collectors used to pass through, and those pods were hooked into long steel railings that covered the walls. All the railings moved downwards, joining each other into a central structure resembling a pillar of steel cables, and as the pods covered its surface...Michael could see what they were doing with them.

Though it was nearly impossible to see, the pods were in fact moving upwards, if only extremely slowly. Yet each pod that hooked into the pillar had its yellow window become translucent as its top was opened and tubes inserted...and with the translucent windows the team could only watch in horror at the grim work of the Collectors.

The humans within were being...stripped, not of their clothes, but their very _flesh_. At the level of the balcony the team stood on, they could see humans lacking skin and hair, almost looking like a picture in a biology book...skinned and put on display like macabre puppets.

And some of them...were moving, bloodied hands futilely banging at their prison, mercifully staining it crimson with their blood so one didn't have to look at their bodies slowly disintegrating.

_How can one stay alive during such a thing_..._why would anyone __keep__ them alive during that_...? Michael wasn't sure he wanted to know the answer, and was almost grateful when he, looking up, found nothing but blood-covered skeletons lying in their pods, finally given their merciful death even as even their _bones_ slowly disintegrated.

Silence.

Then Miranda muttered. "Look down, the pods there are empty..."

Michael did so, easily confirming her words, the realisation of what that meant sending a disgusted shudder through him._ It's automated, moving on even as it runs out of people_. "All the colonists, _all_ of them...are dead."

Again, silence ruled.

_I __will__ make it worth it_.

Then Mordin spoke. "Hmmm...hundreds of thousands of humans processed, purpose of their biomass unknown. Reapers don't need sustenance as far as we know, and why only humans? Yet the biomass must go somewhere, structure suggests upwards, towards central chamber, not enough data to speculate further."

"Then we'll go and find out." Michael growled, moving to put his back against the monstrous pillar, making sure that the team not only looked at him, but saw what was _behind_ him, what they were fighting against. "We're past the first checkpoint, to move on we need-"

A crackle of static in his ear interrupted him, the fact that the others also looked to their earpieces told Michael that the message wasn't only going to him. "Check, check, Normandy to ground team...you read us?" Joker's voice was distant, but distinct, growing stronger with every second. "I repeat, Normandy to ground team, confirm that you receive."

"This is Shepard, we read you." Michael responded, the grim cold in his stomach telling him it was bad news. "Status report."

"Repairs have gone well, but the Collectors have spotted us, and I hate to break it to you, but the crew isn't special forces like you guys." Joker replied, making Miranda roll her eyes in irritation. "I'm still on the bridge, so I can't quite tell, but I don't think it's going too well; EDI?"

The computer's voice was steadier than Joker's, whatever interference the Collector base was making not affecting the AI's transmission. "The crash opened a hole in the cargo hold. When the Collectors discovered us they chose to try and board through it. However, the crew reacted swiftly and was able to repel the Collector assault." Garrus flinched in worry at that, but didn't say anything as the computer continued. "Currently, the fighting has subsided into a small skirmish. However, as long as the crew is fighting, they cannot continue repairs on the ship. The few sensors I have online now have also detected that more Collectors are massing for another attack."

Silence.

Then Miranda sighed, her eyes hard. "The mission takes priority, we all signed up knowing we might not make it back."

"Making it back is still feasible." Michael replied. "I intend to have us _all_ live through this, it's the _only_ acceptable thing to aim for." He forced himself not to look at Zaeed's corpse as his gaze swept over the team. _The sewers will work, need a leader for them, preferably one who knows the path_..._the choice is obvious_. "Jacob." The man straightened and nodded, the staunched wound in his side forgotten, the man ready. "You will take..." _The crew doesn't have armour or shields; will probably need more then Doctor Chakwas for medical care_. "...Mordin." The Salarian momentarily looked up from his work on his gashed forehead, offering a nod of confirmation. "And..." _The team also needs to get past the Collectors and into the Normandy_. "...Kasumi." The woman simply cocked her head to the side, eyes flashing under her hood.

"Yes, sir." Jacob replied even as the two chosen team-mates moved to his side.

"Move back through the sewer pipe, reach the Normandy and defend it at all costs, divide the crew between defending the breach with your team and repairs as you see fit." Michael held out a hand, gesturing at the others. "We're depending on you."

"We'll get it done." The man replied, making Michael smile as he recognised the tone, the tone of a sergeant feigning calm even as he wondered at his chances. _Good_ _man_.

"I know." Michael offered a nod...and the gesture was enough to make the three chosen ones turn and jog back towards the sewer pipe. _You_ _will_. He shot them the final, mental, order, then turned to the rest. "As for the rest of us, we'll split up and head down both these passages. As before, we'll use this split to divide the Collector's attention. Hell, with the Normandy under attack they might have an even _harder_ time keeping up with us."

"Sir, the right tunnel is no go." Miranda replied, making Michael almost smile as she raised her omni-tool and let the map of the Collector base appear. _Nice_ _catch_. "See here? The tunnel is _filled_ with seeker swarms; Mordin's counter-measures only confuse detection, but with that many of them they'll find anyone entering through sheer numbers."

"Yes, but the final door in the _other_ corridor can't be opened except from the other side, the side which _this_ corridor can reach..."

"But no one can _use_ that corridor."

"True, if we _only_ rely on the counter-measures." Michael retorted, drawing a confused look from the woman. He wasn't surprised, he had come up with his plan merely an hour ago, and then only because he had found an old Alliance badge of his. "Remember Horizon? Kaidan Alenko managed to protect himself from the seekers swarms, despite lacking counter-measures, how? By creating a biotic shield around himself."

"That is feasible, though strenuous if it is to be expanded to contain a team." Samara spoke, 'strenuous' no doubt being a understatement.

"What? Afraid of sweating a little?" Jack retorted with a chuckle, arms crossed over her chest.

"I'm glad _you_ aren't." Michael grunted, making the woman look back to him with a surprised look on her face as he shot her a teasing smirk. "Or don't you think you can handle it...?" _Would be better if Samara also went with her as a backup, but then I would lack biotic power in the main force_..._it'll_ _have_ _to_ _do_.

The surprised look was turned into a somewhat amused glare. "Hell yeah I can handle it...and for the record...fuck you."

"Dully noted." Michael chuckled, though the amusement quickly faded as he turned back to Miranda. _Damn you, Garrus, I would have preferred to have you do this_... "Miranda, you will take Tali..." It had been tempting to put her with his own team, but the group needed a tech expert, and Tali's drone would be perfect to scout ahead of the team...Michael made sure to ignore the Quarian's glare. _I know you want to be with me_..._but_ _I need you with Miranda_. She couldn't read his thoughts, but she _could_ read his stance...she relaxed a little. "...and Grunt." Perfect bodyguard, the group needs firepower too.

"Understood, Commander." Miranda nodded, taking a step backwards as those assigned to her moved to her side, surprisingly, Jack didn't seem inclined to protest about being guarded by the 'Cerberus bitch'...then again the two seemed to have formed some sort of truce based on ignoring one another after their shore-leave at the Dark Star lounge. _Amazing what some drinking together can do_...

"Tali, try to use Chiktikka as a forward scout to see what's ahead of the team, _not_ as a weapon platform." She nodded, the way she bounced telling Michael she wanted to say something, but didn't trust her voice. He offered a reassuring smile before turning to the Krogan. "Grunt, any shots aimed at _Jack_ is to hit _you_, got it."

"What do you take me for, a portable shield?" The Krogan growled in irritation.

"Yes." Jack instantly replied.

"Is that a trick question?" Tali wondered, a smirk in her voice as she cocked her head to the side.

Followed by Miranda shrugging. "Pretty much."

Grunt stared at the three women, then the clearly amused group still standing over by Michael...a sigh. "Fine, at least I can take pride in that the rest of you are too weak to do it yourselves..."

"Your father would be _so_ proud..." Garrus dryly retorted, drawing a few chuckles.

Yet the humour was muted now, the corpse of one of their own lying nearby, several having left to save their ride, further reducing their numbers, the Collectors at their heels...and they all felt it.

"Right, the rest of you are with me, we'll move down the main corridor, no doubt drawing the ire of the Collectors, but we're not here to make friends so I say we make the best of it and kill as many of them as we can before we reach the door where Miranda will let us in." Michael summarised, even though the rest of them obviously knew that to be the plan. "We keep moving no matter what, no going off alone or leaving the path, you could get lost..." A few exchanged looks of confusion. "...if you have any questions the guide will be at the head of the group, if you need to take a bathroom break you will have to wait, if a man comes by offering candy you should not go with him, if-"

"I think the joke's lost on them..." Jack chuckled, nodding towards Michael's group.

_An Asari, a Drell, a Geth and a Turian_..._yeah, of course it's lost on them...nice to see the diversity though; could be Cerberus' new slogan; 'promoting human expansion through diversity'_... Michael sighed at his thought, almost irritated with himself for trying to find humour in the bleakness of their situation. "Just...move out."

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"_I know you feel this_."

"_Really_! What tipped you off, the burning flesh or the scream!" Garrus shouted over the din of battle, the Turian unloading a rifle shot into the face of the already damaged Collector, turning it into ash. Michael smirked at his friend as he stayed low, reloading his nearly glowing assault rifle. Noticing his smirk, Garrus shot him a glare that lost some of its sharpness with the little smile that made his mandibles twitch. "I don't get it, if he hates _you_, why does he always hit _me_!"

"Turians smell better fried then humans." Michael chuckled, watching Garrus duck low as shots poured over his head. "Like chicken." Rising up enough to send a short burst down at the advancing Collectors, knocking one over as its leg was torn off, Michael shrugged. "Or maybe he just finds you annoying, it wouldn't surprise me..."

Garrus' reply was cut short by an explosion, followed by Legion's voice. "Position taken, employing covering fire for Vakarian and Shepard-Commander."

"That's our cue." Michael slapped Garrus on the shoulder before breaking cover and sprinting forward. Instantly, the Turian was hot on his heels as ahead of them, Thane, Samara and Legion held the slight right of the ground, their prone forms difficult targets as they poured shots into the pursuing Collectors.

Leaping over Samara, Michael turned, knelt, and fired, the long burst of his Revenant tearing chunks of the floor apart before moving up towards the Collectors coming down from the hill the group had left a few minutes ago.

The insects were fast though, some flew up, hiding in the ceiling, others threw themselves into cover, firing back as best they could, reducing their casualties to one. _Good, numbers they can replace, time spent recovering, not so much_...

"Legion, Thane, with me." Michael reloaded once more as he turned and ran, well aware that despite the extra heat sinks he'd brought, he was swiftly running low. "Sniper rifles up, clear the path." Collapsing the nearly overheated Revenant, Michael drew the Viper rifle as Thane did the same, Legion on the other hand drawing the _cannon_ it called a Widow...

Ahead, the path was far too open for Michael's liking, a straight tunnel with a high wall to the left and a great chasm to the right...and little in the way of cover between that. _Of course, that works both ways_... The Collectors flying up from the chasm and landing on the ground didn't even try to find what little cover was there, they were rushing straight ahead.

The three rifles spoke as one, then broke pace as Michael's swift shooting was echoed by Thane's more patient aiming, which in turn was followed by Legion's slower, but oh so devastating, rifle.

Collectors fell, chests and heads coming apart, one falling back into the chasm as a shot tore off one of its wings, most others falling at the point they had landed on, their limbs twitching in death as their bodies curled up.

It was a shooting gallery.

Soon there were no more creatures landing, and Michael swiftly turned round to the other two guarding their rear. "Garrus, you're with me on point. Samara, push the enemy back and then join Thane in the middle. Legion, rearguard, boost your shield for when the enemy catch up."

There was a stream of affirmative, but Michael didn't hear them, already moving with Garrus at his side as he drew his pistol and Garrus readied his Mattock, first they simply moved at a fast walk, then they started to run.

Behind them Samara was muttering something...and the air went colder as her biotic attack rushed forth...a moment later several of the Collectors behind them screeched in pain.

Halfway down the open tunnel shots started to whiz past the running group, making Legion's calm announcement unnecessary. "Pursuers have caught up, shields boosting."

All Michael did was to keep running, his gaze fixed on the door ahead; a door that EDI had _promised_ would open...but which was _still_ closed. _Come on, come on_...

Then the door moved, opening three feet...only to stop, the hissing of Collectors behind him telling Michael they were trying to manually stop the AI's hacking attempts.

One appeared in the doorway...and Michael slowed down just enough to put two rounds in its chest. Another came, pushing its stumbling brethren aside...only for Garrus to break its head in two with a single shot.

Then the pair crashed through the doorway. Michael slamming his pistol into the face of a Collector, knocking it down even as he gripped the rifle of another Collector and forced it sideways before emptying the gun into its face. Next to him, the butt of Garrus' rifle sent a Collector flying back, the following barking of the gun itself being accompanied by a group of Collectors huddling around a holographic console falling to the floor with cries of agony.

More Collectors were coming up ahead...but now Legion, Samara and Thane came in, their shots tearing the reinforcement to shreds before they could adapt to the situation. "EDI, close the door!" Instantly, the door closed behind Michael, stopping the Collector pursuers. _That ought to keep them busy_...

Michael grimaced, reloading his pistol before collapsing it and pulling forth his Revenant once more as he gestured forward. Already hearing more Collectors ahead, a _lot_ of them. "Keep moving, we're only halfway there!"

_I sure hope Miranda will be there in time_...

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_Thanks to Abydos Jackson, for her._


	70. Chapter 70

"This could prove problematic."

Jacob stifled a chuckle at Kasumi's understatement, which was extremely easy considering the seriousness of the situation ahead of them.

The Normandy still lay crashed on the Collector base's surface, reminding Jacob of a beached killer whale; all power and speed in its element, now nothing but an unmoving sack, ready to be eaten by the creature's who's territory it had entered.

The picked group had easily made it back through the sewer pipe, Jacob had known the way and though they had stumbled upon the odd Husk, most had lain in pieces on the floor from Jacob's previous journey through the pipe. However, now out of the pipe and having reached the top of the slope he'd once walked down, Jacob had been forced to call a halt at the sight before them.

Because they were too late, the Collector assault had already begun in earnest.

The field before them was featureless, it was simply sand and the odd rock poking out of it. Which was good, in a way, because the many Collectors there couldn't find cover from the return fire of the Normandy's crew. Squinting, Jacob could even make out the odd member appear in the large tear made in the underbelly of the ship. _Not far, we could all sprint there in half a minute_. _Mordin's old for a Salarian_..._but I think he can keep up, the man's tougher then he looks_. _But all those Collectors are in the way_..._not to mention the Praetorian_.

Ahead, the Collectors were the ones actively attacking the crew, many kneeling to fire their weapons as others advanced, trying to gain a foothold on the still holding defences. But the Praetorian coming in from the left was slowly lurching forward, it's glowing eyes promising death to the unarmoured defenders the moment it got within effective range. _Not much time, we have to get there_... Jacob craned his head left and right, trying to spot some path around the enemy.

The left was a no go, there even more Collectors were pouring out of a large doorway, trying to get past them and then climb the rock-face beyond the doorway would be suicide. To the right, the ground rose in high cliffs of brown rocks, it was climbable, if difficult due to the steepness of the cliffs... Yet despite the cliffs leading up to the Normandy, Jacob knew they would have to look for a hatch or similar up there, convince someone to open it...and then get down to the cargo hold...and that would take too long, even _without_ the long climb they had to do to even get up there.

_Forward it is_... Jacob threw the dozens of Collectors ahead a doubtful look, then glanced over at the Praetorian that was inexorably cutting off the group's only window of opportunity. ..._and a plan is needed, __now_. Jacob turned to the Salarian. "Mordin, you've studied the Collectors, any ideas how to occupy them while we make a break for it?"

"Actually, yes." Mordin nodded, eyes narrowed as he studied his foes. "Collector bodies amalgams of flesh and cybernetics, drones, not truly living." A sniff. "Brain wired to cybernetics to receive commands, command signal is difficult to interpret, partly of dark matter." Another sniff. "Still, brain carries vestiges of prior existence necessary to keep creature moving, also maintains organs with hormonal tasks."

Jacob blinked. "So...?"

"Can stimulate hormonal release through crude interface with cybernetic implants, hormonal imbalance would trigger a momentarily inability to interpret signals. Collectors would momentarily stop." Mordin blinked, cocking his head to the side. "In...theory."

"You're such a morale booster..."

Kasumi's mutter drew a smile from Jacob, but that quickly died as he held Mordin's gaze. "Either we move or the Normandy will be lost, do it the moment we're spotted, we'll just have to hope it works..." He grimaced, turning back to the scene before him. "Now the Praetorian will also need to be-"

"Leave that to me."

Blinking again, he looked over at Kasumi, her teeth flashing in a grin, Jacob arched an eyebrow. "You're going to destroy it...?"

"Nah, just distract it until you two are on-board, then catch up so we can destroy it together." The thief shrugged, eyes flashing with amusement at the sight of Jacob's hesitation. "Trust me."

Jacob chuckled, there was no time to argue, and Kasumi _knew_ that...besides, she if _anyone_ had a knack for getting out of trouble. "Fine, let's do this thing before we're out of time. On my mark; one, two..." Jacob tensed where he crouched, ready to spring out of cover even as he threw a glance at the other two, finding them just as ready. _We can make it_. "...go!"

Like greyhounds released from their cages, the three rushed forth, legs kicking up clouds of dust as they sprinted forward. Almost instantly, one of the nearest Collectors turned...the heavy Phalanx wasn't exactly the best pistol to run and shoot with, but Jacob had no time to regret his choice of weapon as he continued to sprint while firing the heavy pistol.

The first shot did nothing but toss up dirt next to the Collector, but the next two struck it in the chest, making it jerk to the left, then right with the force of the impacts. A final shot, nearly fired at point-blank, struck it in the head and toppled it backwards with nary a sound.

The rest of the Collectors were turning at the sounds of the shots...only for Mordin's omni-tool to glow... They visibly twitched, legs freezing them to the spot as their arms and heads jerked and shook, as if the entire group had gotten a seizure.

Wasting no time, Jacob continued his sprint, unsure how long the Collectors would be disabled. His pistol whipped out as he ran, the handle striking the back of a Collector's neck and felling it, then the weapon barked out its final two shots, felling yet another two of them. Next to him, Mordin was being no slouch either, his lighter Predator pistol peppering the skulls of all nearby Collectors on his right as a scalpel slit the throats of those on his left even as the Salarian continued to run.

Ahead, the Normandy loomed closer...and the crew within eagerly fired away, culling yet more of the immobilized Collectors, clearing the path of those coming to reinforce them.

A shout...and Jacob's head turned in time to see Kasumi shoot a Collector in the face and, using it's falling body as a ramp, launch herself towards the Praetorian that, unaffected by Mordin's initial attack, had turned it's eyes upon the running men.

Only for Kasumi to land atop its armoured hull, her feet sliding over the smooth metal...before her left hand shot out when she reached the front of its shell... _What the hell is she doing_! She fell...only for the hand to hold onto the edge of the hull, stopping her fall and making her hang right in front of the monster.

The thief smirked into the glowing eyes of the creature as her right hand aimed her Predator pistol at the husk-like skulls filling the 'mouth' of the Praetorian.

One, two, _three_ shots...and the eyes of the Praetorian came alight with power as the bullets tore gouges in the skulls beneath them. Kasumi released her grip though, the thief nimbly dropping onto the ground as the Praetorian's eyes fired its powerful beam, the shot tearing through three Collectors as if they were paper instead of their intended target.

Kasumi disappeared in a haze as she activated her stealth equipment and, even as Jacob leapt into the cargo hold of the Normandy and began to reload his pistol, the Praetorian landed on the ground as its claws scythed through the ground where the thief had disappeared. The monster did nothing but tear up great clouds of dust though, for Kasumi suddenly appeared behind it, pistol firing up into its back even as her left hand moved, tossing up one of those grenades that Jacob _still_ didn't know where she hid.

The Praetorian whirled about in a frenzy, only for Kasumi to disappear once more. Instead it faced nothing but a grenade coming in level with its eye...and the following flash made it rock back, momentarily blinded.

"Excellent work!"

Mordin's comment jarred Jacob out of his staring, making him turn his head to glare at the closest of the crew members. "You! Get Gabby and Kenneth back to repairs, give them six of the more specialised workers to help them with in making repairs!" He turned his attention to the others. "The rest of you stay, we'll hold this position until the ship can escape!" His gaze flicked down next to him, finding a dead member of the crew on the floor with a fist-sized hole in her chest, the pistol she had used still smoking as it lay next to her red hair. _Shit_... "Focus fire on the Praetorian! Mordin, ready your incineration!"

Turning his attention back to the battlefield, Jacob was just in time to see the blinded Praetorian turn back to face them, its claws tearing up yet more dust in its blind search for its irritant as bullets rained over its carapace covered body, only to bounce of its powerful barrier.

Then Kasumi appeared in the dust. As if a ghost, she suddenly materialised, the woman running right at them, leaving the blind Praetorian to claw at nothing but air. _That's_..._damn_ _impressive_. Jacob grinned.

And she grinned back.

Then the Praetorian lunged, claw suddenly coming down in front of the woman, closing around the thief's left shoulder.

_No_!

Kasumi's eyes widened...

Jacob shouted a warning...

A crunch...and the thief's arm and shoulder was torn off in a shower of blood as the Praetorian pulled, making the woman shriek even as the pulling claw made her spin, as if trying to get a last glimpse of the now flying limb.

Another crunch...and Kasumi doubled over with a gasp...then rose upwards, the tip of the Praetorian's claw pushing out through her back as it lifted her into the air.

"Shoot it! Shoot it down!" Jacob shouted in fury, ignoring the screaming in his head that it was already too late even as Kasumi jerked where she hung. Her remaining hand moved down, trying to push away from the claw, only for it slip on the blood pouring over it, making the thief twitch and gasp as she slid further and further down on the massive claw.

A torrent of shots was slamming into the Praetorian's protective barrier now, but it was too late.

Kasumi made a final move to push away at the claw...

And then went limp.

With a swipe of its claw, the Praetorian sent the dead thief flying, its glowing eyes turning back to the Normandy.

A flash, and its barrier gave up.

Jacob's order was a snarl. "Mordin, incineration! Grenades and rockets, _now_!"

Instantly, the creature was aflame, the carapace cracking under the intense heat, then breaking as every heavy weapon from the armoury was brought to bear.

It jerked, turned...and fell, the filthy monster twitching as more and more shots slammed into it.

"Hold your fire!" Jacob cried out, holding up a hand. "_Hold_ it, dammit! It's dead!" Finally, the crew stopped shooting even as Jacob stared into the distance where Kasumi had been thrown, his voice a pained whisper. "_Dead_..."

_Focus_.

Blinking, Jacob took a deep breath, ignoring the wetness in the corners of his eyes as he forced himself to give the right orders. "Two more to assist the engineers, the rest of you, hold your positions and bring up more heat sinks, more Collectors are coming, but we can hold them if we do this by the book." A sigh. "EDI?"

"Yes, Mr Taylor?" The calm voice replied, making Jacob grimace. _It's not fair, she should feel grief like the rest of us_...

He forced his voice to stay steady though, knowing the nervous crew at his back needed it. "Inform Shepard of our status." He glanced back down at Kelly's body, hesitating. _No, he deserves to know_... He looked back to where Kasumi had been thrown. ..._better to have a chance to grief now, at the end_... "And of our losses."

He didn't let himself lower his gaze, to show his pain, he simply looked ahead, ready as a soldier should be.

_Garrus, Kasumi_..._I'm sorry_..._I failed you_...

8

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"Grunt! Stay in front of Jack!" Miranda shouted, making the Krogan growl in irritation even as a volley of enemy fire tore into him,

_Almost there_... Miranda ducked out of cover, squinting as she drew a bead with her Carnifex pistol...a single shot and the offending Collector fell, head split in two.

"This...doesn't make us friends...you know..." Jack grunted, the woman slowly moving past Miranda, her gaze fixed on the ground before her as sweat poured from her brow.

"I wouldn't dream of being a friend with someone as tasteless as _you_." Miranda retorted with an amused snort even as she broke cover, rushing forward towards Tali's position, the Quarian crouched low, busy with her omni-tool as she checked the readings of her forward scouting drone.

The path ahead hadn't been too difficult yet, though there were many seeker drones around the nearly completely open causeway, held back by the impressive dome of biotic energy Jack had thrown up. The rest of the opposition hadn't been more then the odd Collector sniper and rush of Husks. _They're just trying to slow us down, their main force must be focused on our other team, on Shepard_...

Miranda blinked, realising the man had picked himself as the leader of that team for that precise reason...the Reapers desire to take him blinded them for which group they _really_ needed to stop. _Brilliant_...

It was...humbling, but surprisingly, Miranda didn't mind it too much. She had always known she wasn't perfect, but nowadays...it didn't come with the shame it once had.

Next to her, Jack chuckled, though it almost sounded like a groan. "Y-yeah...that comes from someone dressing l-like a dominatrix..."

Miranda smirked, shooting the shaking biotic's chest a glance. "At least I wear _something_..."

A snort, the biotic field actually growing more solid. "Slut."

"Nudist." Miranda chuckled, and to her surprise, so did Jack.

Only for the chuckle to turn into a cough. "Daaamn...hurts like hell..." Miranda threw Jack another look, this time worried as she saw the woman's face screw up in pain. "...better get moving..."

Getting up, Miranda patted Tali's shoulder. "Tali, what does your drone show?"

The Quarian got to her feet, shotgun coming forth. "Just a few husks, less then a dozen." Then she turned her head backwards, making Miranda realise there was a buzzing echoing through the halls behind them. "I wouldn't say we're completely safe though..."

"Alright, that decides it. Shotguns up front, we move forward, double time people!" Miranda shouted the order...and the troop was more then willing to speed up, Grunt and Tali rushing forth to jog at the edge of the barrier as Jack too started to stumble forward.

Keeping her pistol in one hand, Miranda moved up next to Jack, wrapping an arm around the struggling biotic's waist even as Grunt and Tali opened fire, tearing apart two Husks appearing around a corner.

Jack's breath smelled slightly of alcohol and onions. "H-heh...warming up t-to me...a-are you? I'm not...ugh...th-that kind of gi-girl...C-Cerberus slut..."

Miranda rolled her eyes. "Shut up." Her pistol moved to the far right, drawing a bead on a husk climbing atop the bridge they were moving over. A squeeze of the trigger and the creature fell back into the abyss with a missing head. "We're almost there..."

"Y-yeah...good..." Jack muttered, the woman shuddering, too tired to tease Miranda any longer.

Ahead, more husks fell, the creatures throwing themselves at the two up front in a vain attempt to stop them. Tali's announcement making both Jack and Miranda sigh in relief. "That's the last of them! And I can see the exit!"

"Cover the rear! We _move_!" Miranda shouted, sweating as she found herself practically _carrying_ the struggling Jack.

Tali and Grunt moved to the rear, the barking of their weapons and the cries of dying Collectors telling Miranda that the order had been not a moment too soon.

And ahead...they saw it, an open doorway, waiting, glowing like the pearly gates themselves.

_So close_...

They ran.

Stumbled.

Ran.

A gasp...and Jack fell...only for Miranda to hook her arm under the woman's and pull her along, grunting as the two stumbled through the doorway, collapsing even as Grunt and Tali ran in, the Quarian moving to the console as Grunt fired a few shots to cover them.

The door closed with a final thud.

Miranda was gasping for air, next to her, Jack was groaning and gasping.

_Not done yet_.

Rolling onto her feet, forcing her aching body to move, Miranda ran for the left, where a closed doorway waited, as planned. "Tali! Open this door, now! Grunt, with me!"

Dropping onto one knee Miranda dropped her pistol, not having time to reload as she drew her Tempest submachine gun instead. Next to her, Grunt also dropped onto one knee, the Krogan drawing a Vindicator rifle that looked nearly puny in his hands compared to the massive shotgun he usually used. His growl was low. "I'm supposed to be a perfect Krogan, a warrior, not a _shield_."

"Perfection doesn't exist." Miranda muttered back...and felt surprisingly at ease with it; it felt...good to admit it.

And to her surprise, the Krogan nodded. "Agreed, but that won't stop me from trying to achieve my true potential."

Miranda nodded in turn, glancing over to Tali as the Quarian worked in a frenzy with the console. "Agreed."

Then the door opened.

A storm of shots, the rest of the team stumbling in, firing blindly back at the pursuing Collectors. Miranda and Grunt opened up, adding their storm of shots into holding the Collectors off...

And the door closed.

Silence.

"Too close..." Michael grunted, the man doubling over as he gasped for breath. Blood was seeping from a crater in his shoulder-plate, but it was nothing more then a scratch on his person. Thane looked worse, the assassin's left leg nearly black with the blood having poured down from a shot in the thigh, though the man stoically ignored it. Samara was also injured, the armour of her right arm torn off, long gouges having been drawn along it, though the purple blood there had already crusted, sealing the injury.

"Close is still a success." Miranda countered, getting up even as she reloaded. "Commander we're-"

The man had turned to her...only to stare past her, eyes widening. "Jack!" Rushing past Miranda, he made her turn, seeing the biotic twist and jerk where she lay, eyes wide as her shaking hands moved up, clawing at the sides of her skull. "Samara! Get over here!"

Miranda moved too, dropping down next to the jerking woman, her hands moving to help Michael hold Jack down as the Asari dropped down by the biotic's head. Around them, the others silently assembled, staring.

Jack's eyes were wide, bulging out as blood seeped from their corners, her mouth opening in a silent scream as she jerked and twisted, body convulsing as blood began to pool around her head. _Too much for that to be coming from the eyes_... The thought had barely registered to Miranda before Samara gripped the human's head and turned it. "It's the implant, too much strain; it's overloading."

Miranda's eyes widened in horror at the sight. With Jack's head shaved one could see the scar-tissue in the back of her head where the chip allowing her to control her biotics had been implanted. Yet it was not only larger then most...but now bruised, dark blood seeping out from the skin. _B-but the implant is __inside__ the skull_... Samara's hand reached out...and the touch showed how pieces of her skull shifted underneath her fingers.

"Commander, knife, now!"

Michael's combat knife was instantly in Samara's hands, the Asari's left hand pinning Jack's head to the floor as the blade moved towards the back of the human's skull, making Miranda wince as she looked away from what was about to happen...

Only for a scream to make her look back.

Jack's flailing arms somehow knocked both Miranda _and_ Michael away, and Samara only escaped a burst of biotic energy flaring out from Jack's eyes by leaping away.

Another scream, louder, _harsher_, Jack's spine curving as she arched her back, her eyes glowing purple, her scream echoing through the chamber.

A _third_ scream...and the glowing eyes burst, blood splattering Jack's face as her hands flew back, reaching for the back of her head...

That burst; gore, bone and brain-matter poured out of the wound, spraying the ground, the gore sizzling with the shattered remains of her implant.

Silence.

A last twitch...and the biotic went still.

Miranda could only stare in horror, unable to take her eyes of the scene.

Then their earpieces crackled, EDI's calm voice speaking. "Jacob's team has reinforced the Normandy, they are holding the Collectors at bay and are continuing repairs. Three crew-members have been wounded. Casualties amount to Miss Chambers and Miss Goto. Confirm?"

Silence.

"Confirm?"

A low sigh from Michael, tired. "Confirmed."

Miranda lowered her head, exhaustion, grief and guilt digging into her, now coloured with despair.

Next to her, Garrus slumped, silent.

No one spoke, no one had the strength.

For there was nothing _to_ say, nothing to comfort them.

There was only silence.

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_Thanks to Abydos Jackson for getting through this one._


	71. Chapter 71

Silence.

Suffocating, painful silence.

Darkness.

_Make it worth it_.

Michael opened his eyes, hands closing into fists as he smoothly rose to his feet, eyes sweeping over those that still lived. They sat around the gory remains of Jack, each lost in their own world.

Michael's gaze moved over the area. They were on a large stone balcony of sorts, though mounds of stones covered much of it. The two doors behind them were closed. Before them, besides the central control panels, hung three completely open platforms, ready to go wherever the user pleased. Like down the large open space that would lead into the base's central chamber...

_It's clear how we have to do this_...

Michael's gaze moved back to the group.

Samara, the right sleeve of her armoured suit torn off, crusted scars dug along it from a Husk's claws. She sat cross-legged, breathing calm, eyes straight ahead, waiting.

Thane, his bloodied left leg stretched out before him, the assassin sitting next to the Asari, his dark eyes darting to and fro as he lost himself in some memory.

Legion, sitting by Thane's leg, the machine using the welding apparatus on its omni-tool to burn the wounds close.

Grunt, the Krogan breathing heavily, his armour and flesh covered with his own blood as he stared at Jack's body with a frown of disbelief. He had obviously done his work as her shield well, and suffered for it, only to see her die anyway.

Miranda, also staring at Jack's corpse, guilt in her face, tears she would not shed hiding behind the mask she thought was herself.

Tali, quietly sitting next to Garrus, a hand on his arm even as she threw Michael worried looks.

Garrus, the man resting his hands on his knees, eyes on the ground, gaze vacant with pain.

Michael saw nothing but despair, of death. They had been bled dry, energy and will broken, shattered beyond recovery.

_The hell it is_.

"Get up, on your feet." Michael growled the words, his voice seemingly rumbling, disturbing the painful serenity of the silence that had descended upon them. "We are not finished, I helped you _all_ to find peace before this, fail this and you will have failed _me_."

Samara and Thane looked up at that, something flashing behind their eyes, anger.

_Good_.

Legion rose, automatically obeying the command, its solitary eye fixed on him.

"I said _get up_, the Reapers think us weak, do _not_ prove them right." Michael growl got _louder_.

Miranda and Grunt rose at that, a low growl escaping the later.

"We will _not_ let them break us, we will _not_ make our blood and the lives of our comrades _meaningless_." Michael moved towards Tali and Garrus, the Quarian smoothly rising as he spoke, eyes alight under her visor. "I _won't_ allow it."

All around him now, the others stood.

All except Garrus, the Turian still sitting in the dirt, staring at it, as if wondering why it hadn't swallowed him whole yet.

Michael knelt before him, eyes boring into the Turian, though he forced his voice to stay soft. "Garrus...we need you."

A soft shake of his friend's head was all the answer he got.

"See this area? We need to go out into that chamber, in the _open_." Michael muttered, pointing towards the large space next to them. The dark abyss below was strangely quiet, its inhabitants having chased the group all around the station, and now no doubt massing behind the doors so close to them. "We will be swarmed in the open if they get through the door, some of us have to hold them off long enough for me to go set the bomb."

Another shake of Garrus' head, desperate.

"Who did I always depend upon as a second in command back in the old days? Who held off _every_ mercenary of Omega for _weeks_?"

Garrus simply shook his head, refusing to meet Michael's gaze.

"I _need_ you!" Michael hissed, leaning closer. "Now get up, get up and fight! Make her death _worth_ something!"

Garrus visibly flinched.

Michael lowered his tone, a growled whisper. "Or do you think she'd prefer if you just sat here? Unwilling to do what's necessary? Unwilling to go on?" Garrus slowly looked up, eyes wide. "To make all she did for you, all she was ready to give her _life_ for, meaningless?"

Silence.

The Turian simply staring into his eyes, Michael looking right back, refusing to bend before the pain in Garrus' gaze.

Garrus' fist swung...and Michael staggered back, stars momentarily dancing before his vision.

Shaking his head he steadied himself, looking down at Garrus, finding a fire in the Turian's eyes. "That's better." Michael reached down...and Garrus took the hand, letting the human hoist him back on his feet. Holding onto the Turian's hand Michael moved close, eyes steady as he held Garrus' gaze. "Let's make it all worth it."

Garrus nodded, voice thick. "Yes..."

Silence.

Then Michael released him, stepping back as he faced the rest. "A rearguard will hold this position and keep the Collectors at bay while I set the explosives in the base's main chamber. The rearguard will hold the enemy as long as they can, then retreat using one of these platforms behind me, you'll find the Normandy waiting at the bottom. Garrus, you're in command." Michael turned over to Miranda, the two exchanging a nod. _Skilled shot and_..._deserves_ _to_ _see_ _the_ _finish_. "Miranda, you're with me." _Also need a technician, just in case_... Michael's gaze moved to Legion. "Legion you're-" Tali moved, standing in the way. "I..." She crossed her arms over her chest, silver eyes narrowing. "...you're with Garrus, _apparently_..." Michael couldn't quite manage a chuckle, but offered a smile. "Tali, with me."

There were a few more smiles at that, just a hint of amusement and caring among the aches and grief.

Michael's smile died, his gaze sweeping over them. The stoic Samara. The repentant father, Thane. A warrior, born and bred, and now, forged in combat, Grunt. An unlikely, but welcome ally, Legion. A good woman at heart, and dedicated to a fault, Miranda. Loyal beyond words, Garrus. His love, Tali.

"Brothers, sisters..." Michael hesitated, the words sticking in his throat. "...thank you." He managed a stiff bow. "It has been an honour."

Silence.

Then he was moving, heading straight for the central of the three platforms. "Miranda, Tali, form up, we have a base to destroy." He moved to the very front of the platform, eyes narrowing as he tried to see through the darkness of the large chamber ahead. "Garrus, I expect you to get yourself and your team to safety when you can no longer hold the enemy, I trust your judgement."

He didn't look back as Tali hacked the terminal to the platform, nor when Garrus voiced an affirmative before starting to bark orders to those that stayed behind.

All he did was to look ahead, eyes hard.

_I __will__ make it worth it_.

8

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"Explosives ready, Vakarian-Commander."

"Good, then get over here and get down." Garrus snapped, making Legion swiftly climb down the rock-face and up to him, the machine smoothly moving to lie down in the rubble that had been rearranged to become a makeshift bunker. Garrus couldn't help but glance at the machine and its pulse rifle, ready to fire away at the left gate the moment it opened. _Of all the allies I could imagine __fighting besides_...

It was a pleasant, almost amusing thought, and more importantly...distracting.

But not for more then a moment.

_When this all over_..._where will I go_..._what_ _will_ _I_ _do_? _I_..._I_ _figured that with Kelly I could_..._maybe_..._but without her_..._I_..._the_ _future_ _is_ _so_..._empty_.

Garrus grimaced and looked away from the Geth, angry with himself, the image of a dead Kelly far too easy to conjure up before his mind's eye.

But Michael was _right_, despairing and failing, or even to _die_ while _succeeding_...would be to do her injustice, to make all her work to comfort and make him whole again useless.

_They may have killed you Kelly, but they will __not__ kill what you have done_. Garrus narrowed his eyes even as the doors ahead shuddered as the Collector's attempts to get through began to pay off._ I will live, for that's what you would have wanted_. He squeezed his Mattock tighter. _But the Collectors __will__ die, for that's what __I__ want_. "Alright, dig in, I want a focused fire on the _right_ doorway! _Ignore_ the left door! Accuracy will _not_ be an issue, I want a _wall_ of fire. Samara, Thane; hold back any biotic attacks until ordered, this is going to be an intense haul and I want you to save your strength until needed."

Garrus grimaced at the way the others nodded, ready to obey. _So had my old team been_..._no_..._that_ _wasn't my fault, it __wasn't_... Kelly had said that so many times...convincing Garrus she was right. _And now I have a chance to prove it to myself_. He growled at the thought._ I can command well, I __will__ command well_.

Ahead, the two doors shuddered even more, the Collectors no doubt planning to open them at the same time to overwhelm the defenders.

"Thane, Legion; you and I will change to sniper rifles after the initial attack, take out enemy snipers and important targets. Grunt, Samara; you will focus on the closest enemies, preferably larger groups." Garrus felt himself tense, hearing the slight shift as the great doors began to move. "Tear them apart!"

Less then a moment later, the doors slid open, a horde of husks storming through the right door, an equally large horde of Collectors on the left.

Instantly the group opened fire, a blaze of submachine gun and assault rifle fire tearing into the husks, Grunt's shotgun blast just an insulting addition as its pellets tore through the creatures ranks.

The flanking fire from the left smashed into the rubble the group had dug themselves into...only to completely stop as Garrus' omni-tool came alight at his command. For back on Omega Garrus had gotten an eye for when a structure actually supported the rest of the ceiling, it was a good way to ambush the local mercenary bands...and the stone ceiling above the left doorway was _not_ one such structure.

With a crash, the detonated explosives caused a large chunk of the ceiling to come crashing down in front of the doorway, flattening ten of the Collectors like the bugs there were. The rest were no luckier, secondary blasts making stones between the size of a Krogan and a fist rain down on them, killing many instantly while others were covered in the torrent of stones.

In mere moments the doorway had been blocked by the large pile of stones, crushing a good number of attackers in the process.

To their credit, none of the team spared the destruction a glance, nor could they; the Husks were still rushing at them, and now Collector sharpshooters were landing atop platforms in the distance to cover the advance of their horde.

"Thane and Legion, _switch_! Samara, _throw_!"

There was a dip in the number of shots pouring from their 'bunkers' as Garrus, Thane and Legion swiftly drew their sniper rifles, none of them even bothering to collapse their previous weapons, knowing they would need them soon anyway. Yet the horde of Husks only got slightly further in before Samara's glowing form lashed out, sending a dozen flying back into those behind them, crushing them all in a storm of black filth.

Out of the blackness three Collectors rushed forth...only for three barking snipers to send them all tumbling, heads cracked open like ripe melons. Yet more Husks followed them, at their head one of their glowing kind...only for Grunt to blast it backwards with a shot from his shotgun, making the creature explode right among its regular brethren, drawing a crude laugh from the Krogan.

Garrus had no time for a compliment for the clever move, his eye on his scope, drawing a bead on a distant Collector as it took aim at the defenders from its raised platform. Another of their sharpshooters were already coming in to land next to it, its insectoid wings flapping.

A shot and the sharpshooter fell, neck spurting yellow blood even as the bullet continued, tearing the wing off the one about to join its now dying kin and sending it hurtling to the ground with an echoing cry. Garrus smirked in satisfaction in the double kill...only to grunt when he felt a shot impact with his shield, his scope moving to track the offending Collector, finding _three_ of the creatures on that platform.

Three shots in quick succession...and the creatures fell. _Take that you sons of_-

Another shot struck his shield.

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_Thanks to Abydos Jackson for her time._


	72. Chapter 72

"That's...that's..."

Tali's mutter was barely audible as Michael glared at the monstrosity ahead.

Their platform was slowing down, softly coming to hook into a formation of six others that hovered above the dark abyss below.

Michael barely noticed, his gaze _fixed_ on the monster before him.

It hung on the many tubes along its arms, as if a crucified man. The hanging head was a parody of a human skull, it even sported teeth. The eye on the left seemed to have been split into two orbs, their dark sockets seemingly ready to come alight at any moment. It was far smaller then Sovereign, more of a large frigate, not a Dreadnought. Yet despite the _hundreds_ of _thousands_ of humans used to make it...no more then the skeleton was complete, and even then the spine was nothing but a long tail to the ribcage, a tail ending in a jagged spike.

In fact, all of it seemed to be as if a human had mixed with a wolf. The fingers were long and curved into claws at the end, within the mouth something dark hid, something decidedly looking like some form of weapon. Even in the centre of the chest there were a large cylinder jutting out ever so slightly, looking a lot like some form of energy weapon.

It was an abomination.

_A Reaper_...

"Yes..." Miranda muttered, making Michael realise he had spoken out lout. "See those tubes hooked into its arms? I bet they're...'feeding' it all those people. I mean...it makes sense...analysis of the wreckage of Sovereign showed it was a construct using both inorganic _and_ organic material. So now they make a human Reaper, I...in a sick way...it makes sense..."

"_No_." Michael growled, not taking his eyes of the filthy creature ahead. "There is _no_ sense in the Reapers, only horror, only death, and if they choose to inflict these horrors on us, then we'll respond with _death_." He turned to Miranda, voice a snarl. "Prepare the nuke."

As the woman moved to pull forth the surprisingly small explosive, Michael drew his customised grenade launcher as he glared at the wall just behind the Reaper. _Let the Collectors find it when it's embedded in the wall_...

A hum of the weapon...and it was ready for its special payload. Michael didn't take his eyes from the intended target as he held out his free hand, the weight of the explosive Miranda handed to him heavy as he moved it towards the launcher. _You will not succeed Harbinger, I killed Sovereign, I will kill this abomination, and then I'm going to kill __you_...

"Shepard." Michael blinked at the sound of Miranda's voice, having been lost in his own anger. Blinking yet again, he turned his head to look at her, finding her activating her omni-tool with a frown. "I have an incoming priority call from the Normandy, forwarding...the Illusive man?" Sounding genuinely surprised, she let her fingers move over the omni-tool.

A moment later a fuzzy hologram appeared, before slowly becoming steadier as the standing form of the Illusive man was revealed. For once, the man held neither glass nor cigarette in his hands, the two instead remaining behind his back, his face was displaying the same poker-face as always though. "Shepard, I must congratulate you on a job well done, I doubt anyone could have been able to manage what you have done today."

"You can thank me late, I'm about to blow this place sky high." Michael grunted, ignoring the praise as he lined up his sight on the distant stone wall.

"Not necessary, I have a better idea." Michael blinked, lowering the weapon ever so slightly as he looked over to the hologram with an arched eyebrow. "EDI has forwarded her analysis of the Collector base's defences, and while the outside is guarded by powerful radiation shields, the interior is _not_." The Illusive man paused, regarding Michael, as if trying to gauge his nonplussed expression. "That bomb you have is not just a nuclear weapon, but can easily be modified to become a powerful radiation bomb; a blast from it in its modified state would kill the Collectors and all other creatures on the base, but leave the machinery and databases intact."

"You planned for this..." Michael muttered, half as a question, half an accusation.

"I plan for many scenarios, Shepard, that way you can gain a victory however events unfold. That is why your bomb is still a nuclear weapon, if there had been internal radiation shields you would have regrettably had no choice but to destroy the base." A ghost of a smile on the man's lips. "Fortunately, that is not the case, we can preserve this place."

"Why would you even _want_ to do that?" Tali asked, voice tinged with incredulity.

"Study, of course." The Illusive man responded, not for a moment taking his strange eyes off Michael. "Shepard, we both know that this is just a skirmish, the Reapers will still come." _True_. "This base contains Reaper technology and data, studying it we could find ways to understand their technology, and how to _fight_ it." _True_. "Think of the potential, the main gun of the Normandy itself was developed from what little remained of Sovereign, think of what other weapons we can develop from _intact_ technology." _True_...

"I don't know..." To his surprise, _Miranda_ was the one looking hesitant, looking at the Illusive man before throwing the surroundings a worried look. "...it seems..._risky_."

"We are at _war_, Miranda." The hologram turned as the man glowered at his subordinate. "A war against a superior force where we fight for our species very _survival_, if we don't take risks we _will_ be defeated." _True_..._always_ _so_ _damn_ _convincing_...

Michael frowned though, hesitating, in the end...he _knew_ Cerberus. "You don't exactly have a good track-record with experimenting with alien technology though. Rachni, Husks, Thorian creepers, project Overlord, the dead Reaper...the only results there is the death of the humans you're trying to protect."

"I will not deny that many of our experiments have gone awry, but many others have been successful and strengthened mankind. I'm not a protector of _all_ humans, Shepard, but of _humanity_ as a whole. If I can save mankind by torturing thousands, I will do it; I've never hidden that from you." The man coolly regarded Michael...who nodded, conceding the point, and knowing that for all the cruelty behind those words...that the man would be right to do so.

"Michael, you can't _seriously_ consider this!" Tali spoke up, gesturing at the hologram. "Remember all Cerberus has done! What they did to admiral Kahoku, what they did to _Jack_! He's not the person you want to trust with this kind of technology! Jack _died_ to do this! For your sake! Giving the base to these people...it-it's _spitting_ on her memory!"

Michael frowned, looking down at the floor even as the Illusive man raised his voice. "Disrespectful or not, destroying this base will not bring her back, and destroying it when it's unnecessary will only serve to diminish the worth of her sacrifice."

_Make it worth it_...

"Of course you'd argue that, you want a new toy for Cerberus." Tali countered. "And when the Reapers are defeated, what will you do with it? Turn it upon all the other races and enslave them for the 'betterment of mankind'...?"

"What happens after the war with the Reapers is irrelevant, if we _don't_ beat them humans and Quarians alike will _all_ be dead. Are you willing to risk that when you have a key to countering them?" Was the calm reply.

"I...didn't say it's an _easy_ choice." Tali stuttered. "But dammit, not even _Miranda_ trusts you in this, so it's _clear_ that-"

"He's right." Michael muttered, looking up.

Silence. Tali and Miranda both staring at him, eyes wide in disbelief.

Michael shrugged. "This is about survival for the entire _galaxy_, I can't let an opportunity like this slip through our fingers, I can't risk it. Even if it's dangerous, a risk, it's one we have to take." He still looked at the two staring women as the hologram turned towards him. Drawing a shuddering breath Michael nodded. "Those we've lost, all our efforts...we have to make it worth it all, _win_, not simply postpone our defeat."

Silence, Tali in particular looking speechless.

Michael offered a pleading look. _Please understand_..._I can't risk our galaxy dying because I didn't dare take a risk, just as with the Geth, with the Krogan_..._we need the galaxy as strong as it can possibly be_..._please_..._understand that_...

Tali stared at him...then her shoulders slumped as she nodded and looked away, he hadn't said it with words...but she knew him well enough to understand what his stance said.

"Well said." The Illusive man spoke, a satisfied look on his face. "I knew I could rely on you to see the bigger picture."

Michael found himself growling, moving closer to the hologram as he raised a warning finger. "Yet _I_ can't rely on _you_, so let me make this _perfectly_ clear. This will be a strategic victory for us, yes, but don't kid yourself. The Reapers will _know_ we've taken the base, they will _know_ what we find in it...if you rely on it to defeat the Reapers you _will_ fail." The Illusive man calmly looked back on him, his face unreadable. "We need the _entire_ galaxy against them, we need new weapons, and _not_ only developed from Reaper technology, or they will have, as Sovereign put it, guided us to develop as _they_ wished. We need _every_ solution out there, and _everyone_ behind it, or we'll _all_ die. If you think this base to be your super weapon against them or _anyone_ else...we will _all_ pay the price for it." Michael glowered at the hologram. "Are we clear?"

"Not only clear, but in _complete_ agreement." The Illusive man replied with a nod and a smile. _And now I know why they say there's daggers in men's smiles_... "Not to worry, Shepard, Cerberus' commitment against the Reapers is complete and on a broad front, again, I've never hidden that from you."

"Good..." Michael regarded the hologram for a moment longer, but realised he couldn't read anything in the man's face. "...then the base is yours, Shepard out." The hologram faded...and Michael moved to check the warhead on the grenade launcher, and indeed found a modified little control panel on it. _I'm going to guess the other setting is the one to use_...

"Sir...I don't know about this." Miranda muttered, sounding uncertain as she looked at Tali for support.

Michael looked over at her too, feeling that weight of choices once more bearing down on him, knowing he was doing something she thought was wrong, hell, that _he_ wasn't sure was right...but knowing he couldn't justify to himself doing otherwise.

But the Quarian already understood, and she accepted, because she loved him. Silently she moved closer to him...and put a hand on his shoulder, a smile in her silvery eyes.

Suddenly, the weight on his shoulders wasn't so overwhelming any longer...and Michael smiled back as he drew up the launcher against his shoulder once more...and fired.

It was nothing dramatic, merely a whistle as the missile shot through the air, followed by a thump as it bore itself into the wall, the countdown within it starting up even as Michael activated his communicator. "Shepard here, Garrus, you're free to pull out, Normandy, move to the extraction point."

If there were any affirmations, they disappeared in a hiss of static as the communicator suddenly died, making Michael frown in confusion.

And then whip his head around as an ungodly roar filled the chamber.

With a crash of falling debris, the Reaper's arms moved, tearing themselves free from the tubes above and sending them crashing into the abyss. Its eyes came alight, glowing in a malevolent amber as its eyes swept down to look at the group before it.

_Pain_!

Michael dropped to his knees, gasping at the feeling of the Reaper's intrusion into his mind, a feeling he'd hoped never to experience again. Yet, the voice reaching him wasn't Sovereign's arrogant hatred, nor Harbinger's omni-present evil. It was harsh, the resonance of its kind lacking, replaced by simple _force_. "_Marked_..."

Michael blinked, looking up at the Reaper as his hands moved up for his assault rifle, the abomination was looking down at him, and the harsh anger struck at him again as he remembered Sovereign's words. "_You are __marked__, Shepard_. _You __will__ die_. _Your galaxy __will__ burn_." Michael shook his head, the words of the since long dead Reaper rumbling through his head as if part of the monster still lived within him.

And above him this new Reaper eyed him, it's harsh voice slow and filled with growing hatred.. "_Marked_..._you_..._marked_..._die_..." It raised its right hand. "_You_..._die_!"

Michael threw himself to the right, barely dodging the palm of the monster's hand as it crashed down, making the platform wobble as its surface cracked with the powerful blow. "Miranda, shoot for the eyes! Keep it busy! Tali, get to a console! We'll get away before this thing-_Tali_!"

Michael felt as if time slowed as he saw the Quarian run for one of the platforms...only for the Reaper's spiked spine to shoot up, spearing the dais, the force of the impact lifting it and making the woman fall back onto the previous platform with a pained shout.

"_Marked_..._die_..." The harsh anger struck at Michael once more, making him look up at the abomination glaring down at him as it threw aside the broken platform like a broken toy.

Michael glared back, the creature was a sick parody of a human, made _from_ humans, the very essence of the _perversity_ that was the Reapers, his arch-enemy, and now this filthy _child_ of a Reaper thought to stop him, to kill him...to kill _Tali_!

"New plan." Michael growled, Revenant moving up to track one of its eyes.

"Kill it."

8

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"Dammit!"

Garrus dropped behind cover, stones raining over him as the torrent of enemy shots continued to whittle his cover down to nothing._ Not the most pressing matter at the moment_... Garrus coughed, grimacing at the blue blood that exploded out of his mouth as he applied his remaining medi-gel to his injured throat, relieved to feel that it indeed sealed the wound, making it possible to breathe once more. _Not that it stopped the pain_..._bloody_ _useless_ _stuff_...

Grunting, he threw his sniper rifle a yearning look, but it was no use, he had dropped it when an enemy shot had taken him in the arm, and now it lay out in the open, any attempt to reach it would be suicide._ Not that it matters, need the assault rifle against that crazy horde anyway_. Garrus moved to reload his Mattock, well aware that it was his last heat sink.

Shooting a glance over his cover, Garrus couldn't help but grimace. Samara and Thane looked more dead then alive, both lying slumped in their cover as they fired into the gate of hell ahead. The assassin's left leg had begun to bleed again due to an explosion, the man lying in a pool of his own shredded flesh and blood as he kept firing. The Asari was little better off, the woman using her submachine gun with her scared right arm instead of her rifle as her left arm hung limp and broken.

Only Grunt seemed to look relatively unscathed, though covered in his own blood and with much of his armour torn apart, the Krogan was still growling curses at the enemy as he fired round after round into them.

It wasn't as if he could miss.

Garrus didn't know what had gotten over the Collectors, but a little while ago their assault had stopped becoming an organized attempt at chipping away at the group's defence. _Now_ the Collectors were simply _throwing_ themselves forward, a wave of creatures running forward as they fired, others flying right into enemy fire, some even climbing forth along the walls on each side, trying to _hammer_ through it by sheer weight of numbers. The wall of shots of the group was _physically_ keeping them at bay, culling the Collectors as fast as they could.

_Whatever Michael did_..._must_ _have_ _panicked_ _the Collectors_. Garrus hissed, feeling blood seep from the many punctures in his armour as he slowly moved to bring his weapon to bear once more. _A little too well if you ask me_..._nobody ever asks me_...

_How are we supposed to manage a retreat in __this_?

Garrus' gaze went up to the ceiling above the doorway, recognising that it was a supporting structure, it would be suicide to collapse it. _Sure, because we have a lot of options_..._dammit, if I only I knew Michael was done_...

"Vakarian-Commander." Legion suddenly spoke up, making Garrus blink as its left hand reached out in front of him. "We require a handgun."

"What? Why would...oh." Garrus stared at the machine, finding its right arm shorn off at the shoulder, the limb lying on the ground, still holding onto its pulse rifle. Yet the Geth seemed less than concerned about it, its remaining hand still reaching out for the weapon it requested, ready to fight on. _No pain for synthetics to worry about_..._lucky_ _bastards_.

Garrus hesitated though, if anyone was to get one of the platforms to move down and bring the team to safety, it was Legion, and if it exposed itself to more enemy fire it would soon fall. _Screw it, I promised Kelly I'd survive, and I won't have my team die again, I'm calling it_.

His radio crackled. "Shepard here, Garrus, you're-" It went dead.

Another moment of hesitation.

_No, I don't know what happened or what he was about to say, get to work_. Garrus looked back up to Legion, nodding his head back. "Go activate the platform behind me and take it down to the bottom, we're pulling out."

There was no hesitation. "Yes, Vakarian-Commander." Instantly the robot rose in a crouch, ignoring a shot that tore into its armoured back as it hurried back towards one of the platforms, heedless of the shots buzzing past it as its remaining hand began to work over the controls.

"Samara, Thane! One good throw and then pull back!" Garrus called out, moving back to give covering fire.

The two biotics instantly responded, seemingly invigorated by the idea of, if not to escape, then at least an end to the endless fighting. Coming alight with biotic energy, the two raised their fists and lashed out with as much force as their exhausted bodies were capable of.

It was as if the Collectors were nothing but leaves caught in a draft. One moment the horde was rushing forward, the next they were caught in the powerful blast of twin biotic blasts, sending the foremost creatures flying back, only to hit those behind them, and those behind _them_, hurling _all_ of the screeching monsters back.

Instantly, Samara got up, but Thane didn't, the Drell going limp as consciousness left him... Only to be pulled back to reality with a scream as the Asari's still working hand gripped onto his collar and, heedless of the way his shredded leg was dragged behind, pulled him with her as she struggled towards the working Legion.

Still groaning in pain, Thane raised his submachine gun as he was dragged back, the weapon spitting death into Collectors that were already recovering and rushing forth once more.

"Grunt!" Garrus rose onto one knee, steadying his Mattock as he began to fire away, weapon tracking left and right to let the heavy calibre bullets pound the foremost Collectors into paste. "Concussive shot into the ceiling! _Now_!"

Behind him, Legion spoke up. "Vakarian-Commander, that structure's integrity ensures-"

"I _know_! Do it, Grunt!" The Mattock clicked, empty.

And the powerful shot whistled as it left Grunt's shotgun, striking the ceiling with a blast that tore a large chunk clean off, the rock crushing the first Collector to rush through the doorway.

"Now _RUN_!" Garrus didn't bother to look back to see if the Krogan had obeyed. He tossed his rifle, turned and leapt towards the nearby platform.

Bullets whizzed past him, rocks fell down around him...and he stumbled, right shoulder-guard torn off by a heavy stone even as his left leg nearly gave up as shots tore through his thigh.

He fell, right leg breaking with a crack as a boulder smashed into it...and pushed away with his left, forcing himself to fly forwards, to roll with the impact as white lights flashed before his vision.

_No_!

With a thump, he came to a stop, his broken body lying on its side, resting against the humming console of the platform as it began to move. Next to him Grunt collapsed, the Krogan coughing as he pulled out a sharpened stone the size of an _arm_ that had dug itself into his back.

Forcing his head to turn, ignoring the way jolts of pain shot through it at the small movement, Garrus tried to get a look at the situation.

Thane was sitting right next to him, the Drell's back to the console as a hand pushed against a wound in his chest, his other tightening his belt around his left thigh to slow the bleeding of the shredded remains of the leg.

Samara was actually standing, if hunched over, the Asari's right arm holding the limp left, purple blood trickling from both. One of the fringes on the left side of her face was torn off, causing purple blood to pour down her neck and that side of her face in a steady stream. She didn't seem to notice it as she looked up at where they had held their ground, exhaustion visible in even _her_ serene eyes.

Legion was also standing, though listing to the side as it calmly held its remaining hand over the console, steering it on its journey down, apparently unfazed by the pebbles and rocks raining down on them, only steering sideways when a large boulder came whizzing by.

Looking back up, Garrus watched the balcony of stone they had defended crack, boulders and sand pouring over it as the ceiling overhead gave up, more and more of the stone falling down, crushing any Collectors trying to get through. _How does defeat taste, Harbinger_? Garrus grin was short-lived.

_Kelly_..._I did what you wanted and I_..._I'll_ _try_ _to_... He blinked, tears in his eyes, it was too soon to think it, yet he _had_ to. ..._live without you, really live_..._as you would have wanted_...

A shuddering breath of air, the mere act of _breathing_ painful...and Garrus reached for his communicator, his voice a rattle. "Joker, Garrus here, the team is coming down to the extraction point, all accounted for, but we're in need of medical attention." He threw Legion a glance. "And a mechanic..."

"Roger that, the Normandy is operational and moving to the extraction point." Joker's voice was, for once, music to Garrus' ears. "Erm...any word from the Commander? His communication was cut short."

"No, no news." Garrus looked up again, finding the chamber above strangely dark now, its lights seemingly dying, blocked out. _Oh_..._that's a lot of rocks_. "But he'll come..."

"Yeah, he'd better be." Joker growled, almost sounding angry.

"He will." Garrus replied, staring up as he saw the rocks come down, a great _rain_ of boulders. "Excuse me, but I need to panic now..."

Then the first boulder crashed into the platform.

8

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"_Marked_..."

The Reaper was killing them.

The monstrosity's claws swept after them. Its eyes glared down at them, making them stumble as the sheer force of its hatred struck them. Again and again the cannon in its mouth or its chest fired bursts of energy that tore through platforms and the far away walls, even a _miss_ being enough to make the target scream in agony as the heat made their blood boil for that one moment.

And worst of all, the swipes of its claws and blasts of its cannons were again and again tearing into the platforms the team stood on. At times it destroyed the central console on them, at others it was simply tearing them apart. However unplanned it was...the machine had now destroyed four out of seven platforms, forcing the team to fight on a smaller and smaller surface, making dodging its attacks harder and harder.

And Michael was surprised to feel..._fear_.

"_You_..._marked_..." Dropping prone, Michael barely avoided a scything claw, only to find the platform behind him lose its console to the swipe, making it the _fifth_ platform to crash into the abyss. Miranda screamed in agony as she leapt off it and onto his own platform, her right leg had been grazed by one of the enemy blasts, and though her armour had deflected most of it, it seemed to have melted right into her skin...a leg now giving way as she fell to the floor.

_B-but I faced Saren, Sovereign, Harbinger, I've gazed into death and seen __oblivion_..._what is there to fear_! Yet...Michael felt it, the cold grip around his heart, squeezing the air out of him, making him shake. _I_... He looked over to the left, at Tali as the woman over at the other platform had her pistol pepper the face of the Reaper before its mouth spewed a blast of energy just past her, making her drop to the floor with a shriek as her shields overloaded. ..._I don't want to die_..._for us to die_..._not_ _here_..._not_ _like_ _this_...

He turned back to the Reaper, distracting it with a salvo to its right eye before reloading while leaping away from yet another blast of energy, this time shooting out from its chest._ I want to live, dammit, I want to live_!

He felt fear...and it invigorated him.

_I'm alive_.

The abomination turned its hatred towards him...and Michael snarled back even as he let the fear wash over him, fuelling aching and tiring limbs. _I don't want to die_.

"_Marked_..." The creature's right hand rose...and bored its claws into the platform Tali lay on as the monster's head moved closer.

Michael looked at the hand, Tali struggling to get up, then up to the Reaper...and swallowed.

_Shit_.

He ran for her, bounding forth as the blast of the Reaper's cannon tore through the air behind him.

_This is a bad idea_.

He grabbed Tali's wrist as he reached her, throwing her onto his own platform even as the Reaper's claws dug into the floor behind her, making the machinery driving the platform fail even as Michael ran atop it.

_I don't want to die_...

He leapt...and landed atop the Reaper's hand even as the platform under it fell into the abyss beneath, and with his feet skidding on the cold metal of the Reaper, Michael _kept_ running...

_I want to live_...

"_Michael_!" The shout of alarm was full of _terror_...and Michael couldn't blame Tali as he felt himself slip, barely staying upright as he ran up the Reaper's arm as it raised it to look at him.

_With you_...

The Reaper was turning its head towards him, large eyes aglow with hatred as it opened its mouth, the cannon within glowing as it charged up...only to stop as a familiar combat drone flew forth, its energy blast striking the Reaper's leftmost eye.

_I love you_...

That moment of hesitation was all Michael needed. Running up the Reaper's shoulder, Michael jumped...and landed above its right eye as it turned its head upwards to look at him. The glowing eye was mere inches from his foot, glaring at him. "_Marked_..."

_I don't want to die_!

Michael levelled his Revenant into the Reaper...and _screamed_ as he let loose. The Reaper shook and swayed as the heavy shots slammed straight into its eye at such close range, its shaking knocking Michael off his feet.

_I want to live_!

Reaching out with his left hand, Michael caught onto a ridge in the Reaper's armour as he slammed the nuzzle of his rifle back into the monster's eye. Hanging on he _kept_ screaming, his rifle pouring bullets into the glowing orb, making pieces of it fly off in explosions of fire.

Then the Reaper jerked once more...and the rifle fell out of Michael's hand.

_No_!

Hanging on for all he was worth, Michael felt almost weightless as the Reaper swayed back and forth in agony, trashing about as it tried to dislodge him, its cracked eye _still_ glaring at him. "_Marked_..."

And Michael felt fear...but it didn't stop him, it drove him _forward_.

_I won't let you kill us_.

He raised his right hand, curling it into a fist.

_I won't_!

With a crash, he slammed his fist into the centre of the cracked eye, instantly feeling the heat of it envelope his arm, sear his skin.

The eye gave way though, breaking apart...and Michael felt agony, not his own...but the _Reaper's_.

Feeling something cold within the burning eye, Michael reached out, gripped onto it...and _wrenched_.

"_D-die_..." The word was weak, an echo...as Michael pulled out his trophy.

The Reaper swayed as its body went limp...then toppled forward.

_No_!

Michael dropped the broken eye of the Reaper, turning where he hung, eyes wide as he saw himself swiftly approach the remaining platform, finding the two women there staring up in horror.

He leapt a second later, landing heavily on the steel floor, sliding over it, rolling...and gasping as he fell over the edge...

Only for two pair of arms to grip onto his, stopping him mid-fall, pulling him up enough for him to climb up between Miranda and Tali. He tried to speak, to thank them...only to stare at the Reaper's head coming down upon them. "Look ou-!"

A crash.

And darkness took him.

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_Pain_.

His head was pounding, a buzzing in his ear.

Groaning, Michael forced himself onto all fours, blurry vision finding his helmet lying in front of him, or a least he _thought_ it was his helmet, only pieces remained. "Wha...?"

"Shepard." Arms moved under his left arm, helping him onto his feet as the distant voice of Miranda reached him. "Garrus' team is on the Normandy, but they're too injured to help us, the Normandy is not far away, but we have to _move_."

"Yes..." Michael nodded, blinking furiously as he tried to banish the dizziness. "Tali..." He turned his head, half-expecting Miranda to sigh in frustration in his delay, only to find her silently gesture at a familiar shape lying on her back a few feet away. "...there you are..."

He smiled.

Stumbling forward, Michael dropped onto one knee next to the Quarian, hand on her shoulder. "Come, we have to go."

No answer.

"Tali?" Michael shook her, the woman swayed with the movement.

His smile died.

_No_.

"Come on...w-we have to go.." He gripped onto both her shoulders, shaking her harder.

He stared at her, horror gripping onto him.

_No_..._nonono_...

"_Tali_!" _Harder_, angry. "Get up! I said _get up_!"

_No_!

His right arm moved down, gripping around her waist, pulling her closer as he shook her with all his strength. "Get up!"

A cough.

A tiny, _tiny_ sound.

"T-Tali...?"

Michael blinked, his vision blurry with tears as he pulled back enough to look at her, finding thin silver lines appear in the visor. A thin hand moved up, three digits brushing some dust off her visor, her voice thin. "Keelah...the suit's VI says I have no fractures...the lying bosh'tet...I feel like Wrex has just...Michael?"

"Tali..." Was his only response, arms winding tight around the Quarian as he just held her, joy and relief sweeping through him, taking his breath away. "Tali..."

"I...Michael..." Two small hands in his hair, sweeping through it, comforting him, telling him she was there.

It was all he needed.

Silence.

Then Miranda moved closer, the woman's words regrettable, but needed. "I...we need to move."

"Yes..." Michael reluctantly let go of Tali, though he kept his eyes on her as he helped her on her feet, strangely afraid that she'd somehow disappear if he did otherwise. "...let's go."

"It's half a kilometre and the Collectors are in hot pursuit." Miranda noted, somewhat calm, despite her burnt leg.

"I wouldn't worry." Michael spared her a smile, then looked to Tali, smile widening. "Right now...nothing can stop us."

The Quarian nodded, a grin behind her visor.

_Not when we're together_.

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_Thanks to Abydos Jackson for not having a heart-attack._


	73. Epilogue

Michael had never felt as relaxed as he did now.

Lying in his bed, the sheet pulled down to his waist since he was sitting up and leaning against the cushions, he had his fingers interlocked behind his head as he sighed in contentment, eyes lingering on the Quarian standing over by the aquarium.

It was a few days since their escape through the Omega four Relay...and a strange, almost lazy, atmosphere had settled over them. They had done the great leap, and most of them had survived...as such most were still walking around in a daze, trying to come to terms with it. And Michael was more then willing to oblige them.

Sure, there was grief over the fallen, pain from all the injuries and aches from all the work that still needed to be done.

But in a way...it was a _pleasant_ sort of grief and pain...it was _good_ to feel it, to feel _alive_, and to get it out of your system.

They _needed_ it, so Michael kept the Normandy anchored on Illium, letting the crew come and go as they pleased, to wind down from their quest and realise that life could now go on.

He himself feared that part, just a little, for last time life went on after the big mission Tali and the others left him...but he _liked_ the fear, it made him appreciate the time he now had.

Still, that time wasn't now. The team was still recovering, broken bones and shredded flesh needed Chakwas' skilled touch, the group enduring the treatments with a content sort of patience, knowing they had gotten off easily, and happy to linger a bit longer aboard the Normandy. Yet for all the injuries, Michael and Tali had both managed to get through everything almost unscathed.

Sure, Michael's armour was more or less scrap now, but what little had actually punched through had merely bruised or made superficial wounds in him. With him having lost all his other scars with the Lazarus project he actually looked unblemished enough for most Alliance marines to think him a rookie...or so a glance at his bare torso told him.

Tali's suit's impressive shields had overloaded during the battle...and besides having the wind knocked out of her she was largely unhurt, or so Michael's ravenous gaze told him.

With her having recovered from her allergic reaction, her workload in repairing the ship diminishing and things having calmed down on the ship, Tali had once more wished to be with Michael in his cabin. And the two had happily allowed themselves that small luxury as a reward for their work.

Again, Michael had helped her take her suit off, but this time it had been less sensual, less sexual, yet more..._intimate_. Michael knew Tali just wanted to be free of the suit for a while, with him...and it was an honour to help her with it. Of course, that lessened sexual feeling was now slowly evaporating as he kept eyeing her rear...or so the familiar twitching underneath his covers told him.

It was so _strange_ to see her out of the suit...still fascinating and exotic in her alienness. The pale, almost white, purple skin of hers was taut over her slim torso, making her shoulder blades, flanking a thick set of red quills, clearly show, along with the arching curve of her spine and the way her ribs curved upwards instead of down along her sides. It was all different from a human, not overly so, but still noticeable, _especially_ for Michael's greedy gaze.

The generous hips, so easily seen from where he sat, were far wider in relation to her body compared to a human, yet still gave her something of that hourglass figure. Not that Michael noticed that all that much just now, his eyes busy eyeing what he knew to be a backside as hard as steel, and the equally hard thighs beneath, and the calves...

He licked his lips, lost in the sight.

Tali didn't notice his gaze though, her back still turned to him as she worked. "What are you doing?" Michael couldn't help asking, gaze still hungry as it moved up to the Quarian's face when she half-turned towards him.

She was holding his right gauntlet in her hand, though Michael didn't really notice that, his gaze focused on _her_. Her nose was a small thing, though looking almost exactly like a human's, if not for a slight webbed pattern in the skin. Yet that only drew your gaze to her eyes, they were slanted, looking at him from under webbed eyelashes, the green irises so amazingly large...the way her pupils were slitted reminded Michael of a cat...it was fitting, she was quite...feline. Her small mouth opened, making her pointed chin move and reveal a row of small but pointed teeth along with a black and forked tongue that Michael all too well remembered wrapping itself around his during their first kiss. It was all so alien, so strange, that he _shouldn't_ find her desirable...yet he _did_.

"I'm working on your omni-tool." Noticing his arched eyebrow she offered a coy smirk. "Considering your love for punching things bigger than you...and the fact that I don't see you changing that any time soon...I'm trying to make your omni-tool help you...I'd like you to keep that hand, after all." She flicked her hand over the gauntlet, activating the omni-tool...and at the tip a long orange blade of energy shot out.

"In a world of space exploration, weapons advanced enough to wipe star-systems clean...and I'm going to go around _stabbing_ people." Michael summarised with a chuckle, his gaze moving over the almost solid-looking blade crackling with energy. _Though it __does__ look exceedingly_..._useful_.

"Better then _punching_ them." Tali replied, an indignant look on her face...swiftly replaced by a smirk as she saw the way he ogled the new weapon. "Should I feel honoured that you prefer admiring my work than me...or insulted?"

"Sorry, princess." Michael replied with a slight bow, all too eager to resume looking at her, drinking in the sight of those small but firm breasts, then the heavily toned stomach leading down to what he _really_ ached for... "Won't happen again..."

"Good..." Tali murmured, moving over to the couch and stretching out as she deactivated the omni-tool and put the gauntlet down on the table there. Then she turned, leaning against the couch with an amused smirk even as she looked at him with smouldering eyes, her arms crossing over her chest. "...so...Captain...what's next?"

"Well..." Michael really didn't feel like talking about that right now, not when his desire was nearly _painful_...but it was a valid question, and they had been avoiding the topic for too long. He was glad that she hadn't mentioned the base or Cerberus, her silent support of him was enough, the rest...he would make it work out, he didn't know _how_, but he would. He worried about his decision, but he couldn't regret it and he didn't want to think of it any longer. "...the galaxy still needs preparing against the Reapers."

"A given." Tali nodded, cat-like eyes moving over his chest and down over the thin sheets covering him from the waist down, the simple act enough to make him shudder. "And since we're on Illium...I gather Liara will be our next stop? When you stop being lazy, that is."

"I would love your help with that, actually." Michael responded, his chuckle the only acknowledgement of her jab. _We deserve to be lazy these few days_... "Might be tough going, but then again, in our line of work _everything_ is. After that...I don't know...Admiral Hackett, you know, from the Alliance, has been trying to contact me too, so that might be something." Michael shrugged. "Though considering the stuff he had for us during our hunt for Saren I don't think it'll be much of a problem, at least it'll be keeping our skills sharp while we look for other opportunities." Michael got something wary in his eyes as he looked at the Quarian. "That is, if it is _our_ skills by then...?"

He _feared_ the answer, yet...he loved it.

"Well...for a while." Tali replied, looking a little uneasy, though the smile on her lips lingered. "The mission is over, the team will split up...you know how it goes."

"Yeah..." Michael replied, a sad smile on his lips as he found himself postponing the inevitable. "...what have you heard?"

"Well..." Tali had of course heard the same things he had, but she indulged him with a happy look on her face. "...Thane will of course wish to make the galaxy brighter before his sickness stops him...but also see his son..." Her smile went a little distant at that, no doubt thinking of her own 'family'. "...you can't blame him."

"Grunt's an Urdnot, no surprise what _he_ will do." Michael responded, swiftly pulling the woman out of the memories. "And Samara has already told me she's a Justicar unto death...she'll hunt Ardat-Yakshi and such, I suppose...delivering justice one bullet at a time."

"Ah yes, and _thank you_ for telling me about her black widow of a daughter that you were _bait_ for _weeks_ afterwards." Tali chided, voice laced with sarcasm even as she smirked at him.

"Hey...I didn't want you to get worried, or worse..._jealous_." Michael shot her a wink even as she grinned widely at him at that. She had been so afraid of that before, because of how different her teeth looked, she had told him...but that was gone, and he liked that. However alien her smile was...it was for _him_. "I...can't get what Miranda or Jacob will do though..."

"Me neither, it's like they don't know _what_ to do...not even _Miranda_ seems all that excited about continuing to work for Cerberus...yet they don't know what else to do either." Tali replied with a thoughtful frown, only to swiftly changed the topic as it lay dangerously close to what Michael didn't want to talk about. "Heh, they're nothing like Legion, he's going back to the Geth...I'm _almost_ sad to see him go." Tali looked conflicted at that, but Michael chose not to comment, knowing she had to make peace with her old ideas and new information about the Geth on her own. She shook her head, chuckling. "Or _Mordin _for that matter, he decided it before we were even clear of the _Relay_; 'Back to Sur'Kesh, see family'...sometimes I wish I was a Salarian, they are hyperactive yet are never stressed..."

"I, for one, am glad you're not a Salarian...I need you for longer then forty years." Michael replied, gaze hungrily moving over Tali, making her smirk...not that she wasn't _responding_, as far as Michael's gaze could tell... He frowned though, forcing himself to continue. "And...Garrus? He's holding up quite...well, wouldn't you say?"

"He grieves...but yes." Tali offered a sad smile...that grew more genuine as she nodded. " He's a tough one...and I think he feels he would do Kelly a disservice by becoming depressed. He will, and I quote; '_live_'...he doesn't seem to know exactly what that entitles, or _where_, but he seemed quite hopeful about it..." Tali chuckled. "Guess he'll see his family first..." The chuckle died as she eyed Michael. "...and that leaves..."

"...you." Michael watched, unable to hold back his grimace. He already _knew_ what she would say, he _did_, yet he _had_ to ask. "What will _you_ do?"

"I will stay...for a while." Tali replied, hesitating before adding. "As long as I can." She cocked her head to the side, eyes sad even as she smiled. "But someday I have to go back to my people. I don't know what will happen, if we try to get our own colony, try to retake the homeworld or something else...I don't even know if I'll be able to at all _affect_ that...but I have to be there. I-I...I have a duty to try and help my people, I can't abandon them..."

"I know." Michael offered a reassuring smile even as his chest tightened. _She'll go away again_..._no, I knew that would happen, duty always pulls us apart_. "You're like me in that way, doing your utmost to duty, no matter the cost..." A mirthless chuckle. "We're kind of stupid about that."

"It's that stupidity that has saved this galaxy..." Tali muttered, bowing her head, hands fiddling with one another as she looked at him shyly. "...I hope you're not too sad..."

"No." Michael shook his head, he knew her decision long before she had told him, he had accepted it. "It wouldn't be you if you didn't do that..." A pause as he took a calming breath. "...I'll...come visit when I can."

"I'd...like that." Tali smiled back, taking a deep breath of relief that made Michael's gaze dart down, if only for a second. The smile turned coy. "But as I said...until then..." She moved forward, her steps slow and languid, making Michael's heart beat a little faster. "...I'll stay as long as I can...for as long as I..." She reached the foot of the bed and slid onto all fours on it. "..._desire_."

"That's good to know." Michael grinned, right hand reaching out and cupping Tali's chin as she moved closer, pulling her up for a kiss.

Her hands moved to his chest, pushing him away, much to his surprise. The Quarian was smirking back though, a decidedly mischievous look in her eyes. "It is, isn't it? Now if only I knew what to do with that time...? "Her hands slid down, thin fingers sliding over his torso, then hooked into his cover, brazenly pulling it down before throwing it away.

"I take it you..._ah_..." Michael grunted, somewhat taken aback with Tali's eagerness...not to mention how _hard_ she was suddenly gripping him. "...have an idea?"

"I do." Tali murmured, leaning up to kiss him, making him lean forward...only to pull away with a smirk as her long tongue moved over his chest, tickling _yet_...

Michael shuddered. "What are you doing...?"

"Well...as _you_ told _me_ last time I was out of my suit..." Tali looked up at him, still gripping onto him as she leaned forward, breath brushing against him, making his eyes widen in pleasure as she spoke, her voice a sultry murmur. "...you're not the _only_ one who did some studying..."

Michael sighed, his right hand suddenly feeling heavy as he moved it up to stroke Tali's quills. "I love you."

The Quarian smirked, gaze holding his as her face tortureously slow inched closer and closer. "Of course you do."

Michael tried to reply, but his words died in his throat when Tali lunged forth.

_Damn_...

Moaning, he found himself unable to stop staring into her eyes as he felt her tongue around him, her eyes full of mischief, lust...and love.

_I really do_.

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_Thanks to Abydos Jackson for her devotion, her time and her hard work in not only making this story less rife with my glaring errors but also to improve upon those little details that ensures a smooth experience to the reader. She's the best._

_And thanks from the both of us to you; readers and reviewers who with humour, laughs and tears have motivated us to continue through with this tale, we hope you've enjoyed it and that you'll keep an eye for any sequel in the future. You've been great._


	74. Extra: Arrival

_**We're coming**_.

_No_...

Picture after picture flashed before him, blinding his mind even as he found himself unable to feel his body, turning him into _nothing_.

Hackett's grim face.

The relief in Kenson's eyes.

Reapers...

Kenson's face, a smirk...

_**Give yourself over and be spared**_.

_Reapers_!

Guns blazing, alone, surrounded...

An artefact, dark and aglow with malice...

_**Your struggle is pointless, your mind is mine**_.

_No_...

A woman's voice, sounding bored. "I'll have to increase the dosage again, soon it'll be lethal though, I for one don't understand why we still keep him around. End recording."

_**You will the first to witness our arrival**_.

_No_!

He felt it, a tingling, his consciousness defiantly reaching for his body, a burning hatred driving it on...

He was alone, the others couldn't help him, he had agreed about that with Hackett, of those left on the Normandy none could come with him into Batarian space. The Quarians were on bad terms with the Batarians as it was, the Turians would have Michael's head on a spike if he dragged one of them into a conflict, and for his own sake taking along any Cerberus operatives was an easy way to get executed on the spot if something went wrong. No, better it be someone with no affiliation, someone whose actions could only be blamed on _him_...

So he had went alone, it wasn't entirely foolish, he was to get in quick and get out the spy, there was no need for firepower, a single commando knowing the value of stealth had been perfect.

Of course, since he wasn't Alliance any more, he was also perfect in the sense that if something _did_ go wrong he was expendable. The Alliance could deny any involvement with what had happened and in that way ruin any Batarian excuse for declaring war.

Hackett had known this, Michael had known this...yet even though he had no obligation to clean up an Alliance mess...he had agreed without a second thought. After all, Kenson _was_ Alliance, and if she cracked the Batarians could well find a reason to declare war, a war the Alliance and the galaxy did _not_ need with the Reapers coming ever closer. And then there was the fact that Kenson had claimed to have found a Reaper artefact..._that_ had been the important fact, what had made Michael's decision easy.

Yes, there had never been any hesitation for Michael when he had decided to help, despite knowing he was essentially acting on his own and sent there due to politics more then anything else.

Freeing her had been easy. The Batarian guards had never been prepared for such an infiltration, and though Michael suspected a few security feeds had caught at least glimpses of him, he considered _that_ part of the mission a success.

Of course Kenson's revelation of the Reaper's imminent arrival had been a shock...as to her _second_ revelation...

_I should have known_...

_I should have suspected something_...

_They were too sure of themselves, too calm_...

_Why wait to destroy the relay_..._unless you've decided __not__ to_?

Michael clenched his teeth, holding back a groan as a spike of pain shot through his skull, the memory of the energy lashing out at him in the open chamber still fresh in his mind.

_**Do not resist**_.

_Harbinger_..._I will __never__ stop resisting_.

He twitched, body jerking, fresh energy coursing through him, destroying the dullness within him, energizing it with anger.

_Never_!

The voice was somewhere to his right, and Michael kept his eyes closed as it sighed. "I'll be glad when this is over and I finally get to see them...I-John? What on Earth are you _wearing_!"

"Hey baby." A man's voice, tinged with amusement. "Got to love having access to the armoury, check me out. I'm Commander Shepard, and you're my favourite babe in the galaxy..."

"Well..._wow_..." The woman muttered. "...can't believe it fits...you look..._good_."

"Uh-huh?" Was the amused response. "Though I should have left the weapons behind, my back's already killing me..."

"Well..." A sultry sigh. "...maybe we should get you _out_ of some parts and get you..._comfortable_..."

A low chuckle. "Well...we have half an hour before the arrival, maybe we should go and celebrate...?"

_Half an hour_!

Michael's eyes were instantly wide open as he looked about himself, finding himself in some sort of sick-bay by the looks of it; his bed, white walls, computers and other things his startled mind had no time to process as he turned his gaze over to the right.

The doorway was not far from where he lay, behind it a pale woman with curly red hair and wearing a lab-suit was more or less attached to the chest of a tall man wearing Michael's armour, her lips brushing his as she reluctantly pulled back. "Let me just seal the lab and I'll be-" She turned...and her voice died as she stared at Michael.

Then it all exploded.

The man followed her gaze and shouted out in alarm as he spotted Michael leaping off the bed, the man reaching for the pistol attached to his hip.

The woman rushed for the controls to the door...

Then gasped as Michael's right foot struck her in the stomach, sending her flying back.

The man pulled the pistol free, the weapon swinging round towards Michael...

Who spun with his kick, his left foot scything through the air before striking the side of the pistol, sending the weapon flying out of the hand holding it.

A growl escaped the disarmed man who lowered his head and charged right at his unarmoured foe...

Grunting, Michael dropped to the floor and let the man stumble over his prone form and crash face first into the wall. A moment later Michael was on his feet, his foot coming down on the back of the man's neck as he tried to pull himself up...

The man's head twisted to the right, caught against the wall as his neck was forced downwards.

There was a crack...and Michael turned around towards his second foe.

Who had come to her feet, shrieking out a near inhuman cry as she launched herself at Michael, hands reaching out like claws...

He caught her wrists as he pulled backwards...only to slam his forehead into her face, knocking her back to the floor as her nose spurted blood. She just growled in response, trying to get up...

Only for Michael to kneel down on her, his left leg bearing down on her chest, his left hand gripping her by the hair as his right reached down to the floor and retrieved his pistol. "Stop struggling." He growled the order, placing the barrel under the woman's chin as he glared down at her. "I want the location of the control room, _now_." He pushed the weapon harder against her to reinforce his demand.

To his surprise though, the woman, who was nothing but a doctor, not a soldier, growled at him. "I'll never tell you!"

"You have a choice." Michael calmly retorted, letting the barrel slide over to her temple as he kept his gaze cold. "Tell me and live, or don't and die, it's that simple. I don't have time to argue, make your decision."

"You're going to try to stop the arrival..." The woman hissed, eyes widening, something flashing within them. "You can't do that! You _must_ not!" She cried out, bucking under him with surprising strength as her hands shot up, fingernails raking his neck as he pulled back in surprise. "I won't let you! The Reapers must come! They will come! I will-!"

_Indoctrinated_.

Michael squeezed the trigger.

Sighing, he rose and turned over to the other corpse; leaning down he began to strip the man, replacing his hospital gown with the armour and weapons he would sorely need.

_Is it really only half an hour left_?_ They kept me drugged for two days_?_ I have to act swiftly_...

For a moment he hesitated, remembering that destroying the relay would very likely end the lives of over three hundred thousand Batarians, and this was not the scum of criminals you usually found in the Terminus system, this was a _real_ Batarian system.

_How many are part of their dictatorial leadership_? _How many are soldiers and policemen enjoying their absolute power over the people_? _How many are just civilians, innocents struggling to make ends meet_...?

He shook his head.

_If the system isn't destroyed trillions of people will die when we're caught unprepared by the Reapers, this must be done_. _More time to prepare is_..._worth_ _their_ _deaths_.

Michael frowned, he wasn't sure about himself in this matter. Before he had viewed _any_ loss as unacceptable, it had hurt him deeply...and even after that he only reluctantly accepted the possibility of losses as something unavoidable. Yet _now_ he felt more then ready to sacrifice so many for something as intangible as _time_? In fact he felt duty-bound to do so...

_I will make it worth it_...

The words he had told himself back in the Collector base echoed through his skull, convincing, _right_, eliminating all doubt.

Kindness, mercy, hesitation...it was all for a world _without_ Reapers...

And until they were gone, he could not allow such feelings to hamper him, he would not try to deny them as he once had, but he would not let them control him either. He _wanted_ these Batarians to live, he would _try_ to warn them, they would be more forces to fight the Reapers with after all, yet they could not be saved, they _had_ to be sacrificed. Yes, he felt guilty about having to do so, but such sentiments were _pointless_.

_Move_.

Putting on his helmet, Michael turned back to the killed doctor, his gaze moving past her shattered skull and to a electronic data-pad she had probably used to make that recording he'd first heard.

He walked over to it, a sweeping hand activating it. "Right...connecting to the network...show me the control room..." He narrowed his eyes at the shown map, the highlighted area was nearly at the centre of the map. _Not good, but do I have a choice_? _At least the guards here are about as skilled as you'd expect a bunch of expendable grunts sent into enemy territory to be_..._just a notch above mall-security_, _trained for espionage, not combat_. "Right...and how long until the arrival?"

The amber light on the data pad was as cold as it was horrifying.

_Twenty_ _minutes_...

Michael growled, transferring the countdown and the map to his omni-tool before tossing the data-pad aside.

_Well_..._at least I'll get some exercise_..._while_ _being_ _shot_ _at_...

Growling, he began to run.

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_Ouch_...

His head rang, limbs feeling heavy as he blinked, vision blurry until it managed to focus on the floor he was apparently lying on. He saw his arm, the hand still clutching his pistol, a hint of smoke rising the barrel. _Recently fired_...

Groaning, he forced his limbs into action, to push himself off the floor. _So_..._shooting her didn't work_..._obviously_...

He looked up, shoulder sagging in relief even as he straightened.

The reactor was unscathed, though humming loudly as it supplied the engines of the asteroid with power. Part of its hull was scorched from the explosion, the plate he had found Kenson in the middle of unfastening had been peeled back by the blast, but apparently it had done its job in protecting the insides of the core from the explosive the woman had carried.

Kenson had not been so lucky. There was nothing left of her since she had practically stood on the explosive when Michael had tried to bring her down, nothing but a few charred lumps lying spread across the reactor floor. Michael shrugged at it, he had known trying to save her had been impossible the moment she had drawn a gun on him, and when it came down to it death was better for her then to stay indoctrinated.

"Computer..." He coughed, clearing his throat before continuing. "...where's the nearest escape shuttle?"

"All personnel, follow the yellow lights." Was the calm response, making Michael look down to indeed find blinking yellow strips of light along the floor and leading towards a door over which it in bold letters said; 'landing platform'. "Warning, five minutes until impact, evacuate."

Grunting, Michael began to run, hand shooting up to his helmet. The pieces of the hardseal hidden within his helmet appeared with a whirring sound, covering the space between his chin and visor before swiftly clicking into place. His suddenly synthesized voice lacked his usual humorous tone. "Yes ma'am."

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His target was running for it, despite there being no shuttle left, despite having nowhere to go, the man was running to escape the fate of his brothers.

Kneeling, Michael followed the running soldier with his sight, taking a deep breath...and then slowly exhaled as he squeezed the trigger.

The blast of his Revenant was muted in space, yet he felt the vibration in his hands, and watched with some satisfaction as the distant target fell forward, clutching after his shoulder, then his neck as his body realised all air was going out of his suit.

It didn't take long for his struggling to stop.

Michael didn't pay it much heed though, the moment he had confirmed he had downed the last foe he was up and running, leaping towards the communication relay at the far end of the platform. Kenson had cut off the base's connection to it to stop Michael from warning the Batarians, from communicating with the Normandy, a spiteful move that had done nothing but make the end of this fight all the more tragic.

She couldn't stop him from manually using the relay though.

_Speaking of relays_...

He looked up, eyes widening at the sight of the massive, and _growing_, sight of of the Mass Relay that seemed to fill the space ahead of the hurtling asteroid with its barely contained energy.

_Right, getting away, good idea_. His hands danced over the controls, making it connect to his helmet at a wide broadcast. "All inhabitants of the Bahak system, this is-" _Don't use any titles_. "Michael Shepard, I implore you to leave the system this instant before it is destroyed, I repeat, this _instance_! It's a matter of life and death!" It would probably do no good, but if even _one_ managed to escape it was at least _something_ gained. Michael swiftly switched to a private channel though. "Joker, this is Shepard, come down on my position and get us out of this system! Now!"

"Been on my way ever since I saw the asteroid start to move, will be there within two minutes."_ Barely enough time_...Michael swallowed at Joker's calm words...that were swiftly followed by a chuckle. "By the way, Tali is here calling you all manner of colourful things in Quarian...I think she even got some _Turian_ insults into it..."

Michael smiled at that._ I'll gladly have her yell at me after this_... "Just get over here..." Then something to his right flickered, a glow... "I'll...get back to you."

Stepping around the controls to the communications relay, Michael found his eyes narrowing at the flickering orange light appearing above one of the, a light swiftly growing and taking shape...

"_**Shepard**_." The hologram of the Reaper was enough to make Michael gnash his teeth, his hands curling into fists. "_**Y**__**ou continue to fight the inevitable, yet you know you cannot win**_."

"I'm about to prove it's anything _but_ inevitable." Michael growled back, taking a step forward. "You will _not_ arrive today, I've made sure of it."

The hologram glow became harsher, the eyes of the machine that wasn't really there glaring at him. "_**This seems a victory to you, a star system sacrificed**_. _**You have gained nothing, we will come, and your galaxy will die**_."

Michael glanced back.

Behind him dead men and women in dark armour lay, indoctrinated – enslaved – people fighting for their 'gods' that wished to feast upon them. Above them he could see shining stars, but also the distant planet of Aratoht, there nearly every Batarian in the system lived, two thirds nothing but slaves, nearly _all_ of them hard working people struggling on with their lives...and all soon to die without ever knowing why.

He shook his head, looking back to Harbinger. "No...this isn't a victory." The hologram seemed ready to respond, yet Michael was faster, marching closer, he jabbed a finger towards it. "The victory will be when _your_ broken husk is scattered through space! The victory will be when _all_ of your kin join Sovereign's fate! The victory will be when what's left of your species is reduced to nothing but _scrap_ _metal_!"

"_**You speak out of ignorance, you will-**_"

"And you out of _arrogance_!" Michael shouted back, the pointing finger curled to join the rest into forming a fist. "Know this; Saren, Sovereign, the Collectors, the Shadow Broker..._all_ of that is _nothing_ compared to what I'll visit upon the Reapers when they appear! You may have scoured this galaxy _hundreds_ of times, but against us you have lost _every_ encounter! _Remember_ that when you arrive, remember that and know I'm coming for _you_ next."

Silence.

The eyes of Harbinger's hologram glowed with rage. "_**You will watch your galaxy burn, you will know despair, and we will-**_"

"This exchange is over." Michael snorted, remembering all too well Sovereign's parting words back on Virmire. Glaring at the hologram he drew his pistol in one fluid movement and fired a single shot into the communication relay.

The hologram instantly disappeared.

He barely reacted when the Normandy appeared a moment later, barely reacted when he entered the cockpit of the ship to find Joker barely steering their ship into the Mass Relay in time to avoid its collision with the asteroid. He barely even reacted when Tali crashed into him, fists pounding at his chest as she shouted something at him, instead he hugged her when she was done, the eyes under his visor narrowed into a frown.

_They are close now, so close, I can __feel__ them_...

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_Thanks to Abydos Jackson for never getting tired of me._


End file.
